


Heaven is a Kiss and a Smile

by WinJennster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (all in the past), Also Dean is a genius, Anal Sex, Attempted Sexual Assault, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Blow Jobs, Bobby/Jody - Freeform, Bottom Dean, But John isn't in the fic, Charlie is awesome, Collars, Dean in Panties, Dean loves his bathtub, Dean/Cas Tropefest 2017, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Marijuana, Mary/Rufus, Roommates, Roommates to lovers, Sam/Jess - Freeform, Stripper Castiel, Top Castiel, Unwanted Sexual Advances, Unwanted groping, Vegan Castiel (Supernatural), mentions of dom/sub, side pairings:, they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-03 22:14:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12155862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinJennster/pseuds/WinJennster
Summary: Dean’s life is well ordered. He’s successful and happy - at least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.When his little brother slash roommate moves out to live with his fiancé, Dean’s faced with living alone. Sam recommends his TA, Cas Novak, for Dean’s new roommate. Dean happily accepts, relieved that he doesn’t have to go through the trouble of finding a new roommate himself. Only Cas moves in with a stripper pole. Because apparently, his hotter than hell new roommate is a professional stripper. Who managed to see Dean in purple panties his first night in the house.Cas is probably going to shake up Dean’s entire world - and Dean just might let him.





	1. Sometimes the Clothes Do Not Make the Man

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhh what a hellish long road this fic has been. The art is embedded, so please enjoy and send Lennyways some love. 
> 
> There's more I have to say, but I figure you'd like to get to actually reading the fic, so we'll save those for the end.

[ ](https://imgur.com/5WDMfYi)

 

Dean dropped the last box in the kitchen and sighed. This was it. The end of an era.

_ That’s a little dramatic even for you, Winchester. _

“Hey, thanks, man. I appreciate this.” Sam, his not-so-little brother, set a box down and yanked the fridge open. “Beer?”

“Sure.” He accepted the bottle, watching as Sam puttered around the little kitchen. “Didn’t take too long, did it?”

“No.”

They sipped in silence, and when Dean was done, he handed his empty to Sam. “Gonna head home. Early morning.”

“You don’t have to - we’re gonna get pizza...”

“Nah, Sammy, it’s all good.”

A few moments later, Dean was in his Baby, heading home to his sad, empty house. He dropped his keys in a bowl by the door and wandered upstairs. Dean couldn’t help but stop and stare at Sam’s empty room. 

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

* * *

 

Sam Winchester was a morning person. Bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, Mr. Perky without even turning on the coffee pot. He radiated sunshine out his ass and more cheerfulness than Shirley Temple on uppers. 

He burst into Dean’s room, pulling on the room-darkening shades and letting them  _ flap flap flap _ open. Sunlight burned Dean’s surprised eyes and he hurled a pillow at his overgrown menace of a little brother. 

“Go the fuck away, asswipe!”

“Nope! Get up!”

“Fuck you!” Dean burrowed under the covers. Sam promptly yanked them off and tossed them across the room.

“You’re getting up. It’s been three days since I moved out and I know you haven’t posted an ad yet and I bet you didn’t leave the house yesterday. Stop sulking. Get. Up. Right. Now.” Sam accentuated each grunted word with a sharp tug on one of Dean’s legs, successfully yanking him out of the bed. 

“I was taking a few vacation days and I hate you!” Dean glared up at his brother from the floor. 

“No you don’t. You miss me. That’s why you got wasted the other night and missed work. You knew this was coming, Dean. Find a fucking roommate. Grow the fuck up already.” Sam bustled around picking up dirty clothes from the floor. “I can’t understand how someone as successful as you in the business world has such a shitty time maintaining his personal life. It’s embarrassing.”

“Fuck. You.” Dean growled. “How’d you know I got wasted?”

“Bunch of empties in the recycling bin. They weren’t there when I moved out. Anyway, about the whole roommate thing - I wrote something up and saved it. It’s in your email. Look it over and post the damn thing. There’s nothing wrong with admitting you don’t like living alone. In fact,” Sam grinned, “I actually know a guy who’s looking for a roommate - my TA, Cas Novak.”

“You mean that weird guy, right? Your grown-up student?”

“He’s not that weird. He’s pretty smart. Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without him. I definitely wouldn’t be able to concentrate on teaching without his help in grading papers and assisting my students. The house he rents a room in is getting torn down and he has like a month to move. I think you’d like him. Want me to set something up?”

“Yeah. I guess. Whatever.”

“Dean -”

“I said whatever,” Dean groused, getting to his feet. He crossed to his dresser, yanked open drawers and pulled out some clothes. 

“Look, I know it was sudden -”

“It’s ok. You’re getting married. Makes more sense for you to stay with Jess. I’m being stupid and I’ll get over it. Besides,” he added, going to his walk-in closet for a suit, “you’re right about me dropping the ball on my job. Those pesky life insurance policies won’t sell themselves,” he muttered bitterly.

“You’re an executive vice-president of sales for Adler and MacLeod Life and you manage to reduce it to a lowly salesman position. Nice.”

“My job is boring.”

“Yet, it’s this same boring job that keeps you in your beloved Hugo Boss and Armani suits,” Sam smirked.

Dean admired the charcoal grey Armani suit in his hands. “I like nice clothes. That’s not a crime.” He plucked a pearl pink silk Calvin Klein tie from the tie rack and his black Ferragamo shoes from the rack on the floor. If Sam hadn’t been hovering and flapping around like an overgrown bat, he’d have pulled out the satin Agent Provocateur panties that matched the tie. They were a little on the tight side, but he loved the way they pulled and tugged every time he moved and nope, didn’t need a boner with lil bro hanging around.

“You’re so gay.”

“Bi. I’m bi. You know this, bitch.”

“Jerk.”

“Whatever. Go away. I need to get dressed.”

“So you’re definitely going to work?”

“I’m definitely going to work.”

“And you’re gonna be at Mom’s for dinner this week?”

“I’ll be at Mom’s for dinner.” Distracted, Dean smoothed nonexistent wrinkles in his shirt and laid it on the bed.

“And I can tell Cas he can move in this week?”

“Yeah, you can tell Cas he can move in this week,” Dean said vaguely, heading for the shower. He was still thinking about his panties. Hopefully Sam would be gone when he was done, and he could switch out the boxers for his panties. 

Sam yelled a goodbye as Dean turned the water on, pulling out his Truman’s shampoo and Kiehl's face scrub. No wonder Sam harassed him. He probably spent more on bath products than Sam did on clothes. And he didn’t even want to consider his own clothing budget. Those panties alone…

Dean was sliding those perfect panties up his legs when Sam’s words caught up with him. Had he actually agreed to let Cas move in? Crap. 

Well, shit. He’d have to call Sam and...nevermind. If Sam was willing to vouch for this Cas person, that was good enough for Dean. It would save him the trouble of having to find a roommate. 

It wasn’t like Dean couldn’t afford his cushy Overland Park home on his salary. He could more than afford it, in addition to his greens fees, all three of his cars, and his awesome boat. He wasn't stupidly rich, but he was more than comfortable. Dean had worked hard for every penny he had, and he enjoyed his life. At least, that’s what he’d been telling himself for the past several years. 

He just hated being alone. Simple as that. 

Locking the front door, he crossed the walk to his large garage, swinging his laptop bag and whistling. “Good morning, Baby,” he called towards his Impala where she presided over the garage like the Queen she was. He unlocked the door to his BMW, bemoaning the fact that his company’s parking garage was no safe place for his lady...or his 2017 Corvette. He pulled out of the neighborhood, pointing his car towards the Missouri side of Kansas City. 

On the way in, he thought about Cas. He’d never met the guy, but Sam talked about him all the time.  _ Cas is brilliant, Cas is so helpful, don’t know what I’d do without him, Cas, Cas, Cas, blah blah blah.  _ And he really did hate being alone, so maybe it would be a good thing. Maybe it would work out. 

How weird could Cas be, anyway?

* * *

 

“Is that a - a stripper pole?”

“Yes.”

Dean stood on his front lawn and watched as his new roommate unloaded a U-haul. 

His new roommate.

His unfairly hot, body-carved-by-the-gods, apparent owner of a stripper pole, new roommate, currently standing on his lawn in tiny black track shorts and an utterly threadbare AC/DC t-shirt. 

“Uh. Why do you have a stripper pole?”

Blue eyes leveled a stare at him. “Because I’m a professional stripper, Dean, and do occasionally need to practice,” Cas said, his voice like gravel under the Impala’s tires. 

“Uh. Sammy said you - said you were his TA?” Dean scratched the back of his neck.

“I am. Stripping pays the rent.”

“Right. So you’re like a Chippendale or something?” 

Cas tossed a scathing look at Dean. “I don’t strip for  _ women _ ,” he scowled, moving back into the truck.

Dean experienced the oddest sensation. He’d had no idea his mouth could go desert dry  _ and  _ water at the exact same time, and holy shit, how had his pants gotten so tight?

Grabbing the closest box, Dean disappeared back into the safety of the house. 

He was going to kill Sam. Murder him. String him up in the middle of Lawrence for all their childhood friends to laugh at and pelt with rotten tomatoes. 

He had to have known! Sam knew damn well Dean had a type and Cas ticked off pretty much every item on the  _ Dean Winchester Wants To Bang You _ list. 

Dean dropped the box outside Cas’s door and scurried off to his own room, slamming the door shut behind him. Not like Cas really needed his help anyway, not with that creepy English twit slutting around the truck and that odd, way-too-perky dark haired chick. He wondered if they were strippers too. Then he thought about Cas practicing on that pole. He’d given Cas two of the house’s five bedrooms, plus full run of the rest of the house. What if Cas put the pole in the living room?

Oh shit. Dean wouldn’t be able to watch Dr. Sexy if Mr. Sex-on-a-Stick was down there swinging around on his pole. Dean’s traitorous brain helpfully provided him with an irresistible image of Cas dressed as Dr. Sexy, in a thong, cowboy boots, and doctor’s coat, swinging around that damn pole. 

His heart rate jumped and all the blood in his body rushed south.   
“Fuck,” he muttered, pressing a palm against his crotch. 

He stared longingly at his bathroom, wondering if it would be bad form to run a bath and rub one out in the tub, since he should probably be downstairs helping Cas finish moving in. He could hear chatter and movement outside his door and it made his nerves flare. 

Dean had a paranoid feeling that if he stayed in his room to get himself off, Cas would know exactly what he’d been doing. Feeling his face flame at the thought of Cas knowing he jacked off with his pretty, pretty face in mind was enough to spur him into movement. 

Swallowing hard and willing his traitorous erection to make itself scarce, he opened his bedroom door and headed back into the fray. 

* * *

 

“Would you like to order pizza?” Dean asked quietly, watching as Balthazar the Annoying and Meg the Obnoxiously Smirking pulled the U-haul out of his driveway. “My treat.”

“Ok. But I’m vegan. No meat on mine, please. And it has to be a special type of cheese.” Cas frowned. “Maybe I should just make my own?”

“Uh, well, I um - yeah, I guess so,” Dean muttered, shoulders slumping. “Maybe I’ll just go get sushi or something.”

Cas brightened. “Sushi I can do. Let’s just go out to eat,” he grinned.

Which is how Dean found himself sitting across from his new, hotter than hell roommate, sharing a huge plate of sushi - all veggies and rice for Cas. 

“So uh - how do you like the house?” Dean asked, desperate for conversation. 

“It’s very large. My new room is bigger than my former apartment. I am concerned about the rent, however.”

Dean frowned. “Is it too much? I can lower it -”

“No, that’s just it. It’s not enough. You could be charging double -”

“No. It’s fine where it is. Look, I don’t know if Sam told you, and I honestly don’t know why I’m telling you because I barely know you, and -”

“Spit it out, Dean.”

“I don’t do well alone. I get really depressed. It helps just to hear another voice in the house. It’s not that I’m scared of being alone - I just don’t like it.”

Cas cocked a dark eyebrow, interest in his blue, blue eyes. “You surprise me.”

“Uh, is that a good thing?” Dean asked, squirming under the intensity of Cas’s gaze.

“Yes.”

“Huh. Ok.”

They ate in silence. Dean finished the bottle of saké and ordered another, distantly aware that he was getting a little bit drunk. 

“Do you have questions for me?” Cas asked abruptly. 

“Um. Well, you’re older than me, right?”

“Yes. Sam says I am three years older than you. You were born in ‘79, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“My birthday is September of ‘76.”

“Ok.”

“Why do you ask?” Cas dipped a roll in soy sauce, pink tongue darting out to scoop it from the chopsticks.

_ Jesus. Even his tongue is pretty.  _ “I was just wondering. Sam said you were his TA?”

“Yes. I'm going to school for the second time after spending twenty years in the Navy, four of which were spent at the Academy.”

“Oh - wow. Naval Academy, huh? What did you do in the Navy?”

“I was a pilot.”

Oh, wonderful. Just wonderful. If the Dr. Sexy stripper image his imagination had oh-so-helpfully provided earlier in the day wasn't bad enough, now he was imagining Cas as Maverick, in silver aviators and a form-fitting flight suit. 

Dean drained the remainder of the saké. 

“Are you ok?”

“Yup, fine!” Dean shot back, far too enthusiastically. 

Tilting his head, Cas studied him closely. “I believe you’re intoxicated,” he informed Dean. “I will be driving us home.”

“Uh - nobody drives my baby,” he countered weakly, knowing that the argument was already lost. He  _ was _ drunk. Two bottles of saké had been emptied at their table, and Cas had only drunk water.  _ Shit _ , he thought.  _ He must think I’m a hot mess. Oh wait. I am. _

The alcohol hit him full force, and he slumped back into his chair. Cas had the remainder of their dinner packed to go and pulled out his own credit card before Dean could even argue. 

He helped Dean to his feet, boldly reaching into his pocket for the keys to the Impala. Steering Dean out to the parking lot, he opened the passenger door and Dean obediently dropped into the seat. 

_ Why aren’t you fighting back?  _ he asked himself.  _ Why are you letting him take control? Nut up, Winchester! _

Instead, he leaned back against the seat and passed out. 

* * *

 

Waking up Sunday morning, Dean was very surprised to find himself in his own bed. 

“Damn,” he muttered, dragging himself from bed, “two bottles of saké will really take it out of a guy.” He trudged to the bathroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and scratching his belly. Starting the water in his shower, he took care of business at the toilet, letting his pretty purple lace panties drop to the floor. 

Dean pulled off his tee shirt and stepped into the shower. He was sudsing up his hair as he wondered how he’d gotten to bed the night before. Cas must’ve helped him, since he barely remembered pulling into the garage, although he did remember instructing Cas to back the Impala in.

So Cas helped him to bed - which meant Cas helped him get undressed. 

Which meant Cas saw his panties.

Dean’s eyes opened in alarm, soap instantly flooding his vision. He shrieked in pain, spinning around to get his eyes under the stream of water. His elbow bumped into a large bottle of shampoo, which fell and hit his toe. Yelling obscenities, he did his best to balance on his uninjured foot, frantically trying to wash the soap from his eyes. 

“Dean? Are you ok? I heard a crash.” 

Dean groaned as Cas’s voice drifted through the door. He didn’t answer, and tilted his eyes back to the spray, blinking and trying to clear the soap. 

“Let me help you,” Cas said, his voice oddly close and why the hell was the shower door opening?

Trying frantically to open his eyes, Dean squealed as another wave of soap dripped into his eyes. 

“Hold still!” Cas commanded, reaching up to remove the shower head from its mount. Fingers gently spread his eyelids while running the water into them. “Easy. Blink. It’ll help.” 

Dean complied, letting Cas wash the soap from his eyes. When he was finished, Cas slid the shower head back onto the bracket. 

“Are you ok?”

Nodding, Dean reached down and shut off the water, reaching for the closest towel and hastily wrapping it around his midsection.  “You still have soap in your hair.”

“Why are you in my bathroom?!” Dean spluttered.

“You sounded distressed. I was concerned you needed assistance.”

“I just had soap in my eyes!”

“There was a crash,” Cas said calmly. “I had thought perhaps you’d fallen.”

“I’m not eighty! I won’t die if I fall in the shower!”

“You don’t know that. A blow to the head could cause immediate death no matter the age of the person injured.”

“Wha - I - why - get out of my bathroom!” 

“Very well.” Cas snagged the extra towel off the rack and left as suddenly as he’d appeared, dabbing at his damp tee and closing the bathroom door behind him. 

Dean sagged against the shower wall. Wonderful. Sam had found him the hottest roommate possible, and the guy just happened to have no compunctions about popping up in his bathroom when Dean was naked and vulnerable and - “not now, you stupid boner!”

* * *

 

It took almost an hour for Dean to work up the courage to walk downstairs. And it would have probably been longer if not for the insistent growling of his stomach. He hoped beyond hope that Cas had hopped into his stupid little Prius and left the house. 

No such luck. 

Cas was in the kitchen, flipping what looked like pancakes. They smelled like pancakes. It was part of what had finally drawn Dean downstairs. A large bowl of sliced berries sat in the center of his kitchen table, and he noticed the table had been set for two. 

“Are you hungry?” Cas asked, flipping another pancake.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Please, sit.” 

Dean sat. 

Moments later, a plate of warm pancakes was placed in front of him, along with a mug of coffee that smelled better than any cup of joe Dean had ever had. 

“I apologize for entering your bathroom without permission. It won’t happen again.”

“It’s ok,” Dean mumbled, staring down at his pancakes. They were picture perfect; round and golden, and they looked light and fluffy. 

Several berries tumbled onto his plate, red and purple juice staining the golden surface of the pancakes. Dean looked up and Cas smiled at him, spooning some more onto the plate. “Good?”

“Yeah. This looks incredible.”

“You’re welcome. Dig in.”

Using the edge of his fork, Dean cut off a large wedge, making sure to get several slices of strawberries and a few blueberries. The flavor of the pancakes exploded in his mouth. They were creamy and light, with notes of cinnamon and vanilla, and the berries added to the experience. 

Dean let out a low moan. 

“That good?” 

“Mmm, yes.”

“I noticed you didn’t have much in the way of food, so I went out and purchased groceries this morning. It’s entirely possible you’re having your first vegan breakfast.”

“The pancakes are vegan?” Dean asked, surprised.

“Yes. I use almond milk instead of cow’s milk, and the eggs aren’t necessary.”

“Wow. They really are good.”

“I’m glad. I am sorry about this morning. I was truly concerned you’d fallen when you didn’t answer me.”

“Oh. I guess I should’ve yelled that I was ok.”

“It would’ve helped,” Cas smiled. 

Dean smiled back, and they finished their breakfasts in comfortable silence, sun streaming in through the windows. 

“I do have one question,” Cas said.

“Yeah?” Dean was loading the dishwasher while Cas finished clearing the the table. 

“Do you wear them everyday or just for special occasions?”

Oh god, the panties. Dean’s face heated. “I uh - uh -” he stammered. 

“Just curious. I enjoy a good pair myself, although I really only let myself wear them at work. They're far too distracting to wear to class." Cas leaned across Dean to put some dishes in the sink, entirely too far into Dean’s personal space bubble. “The ones you had on last night fit you like they were made for you.” 

Dean couldn’t breathe. He was pinned between Cas and the countertop, the man so close Dean could feel each individual puff of breath. “I um - I like - I like -”

“You like the way they feel? The way they cradle you? That’s what I like about them.”

How the hell had Cas’s already low voice dropped even lower? Dean couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, but heat was shooting up his spine, blood was rushing south -  _ oh shit _ , he thought,  _ I am in so much trouble here _ .

“I uh - I have to get ready,” he murmured. “My mom is expecting me for lunch.”

“I’m aware.”

“You are?”

“Yes. She invited me as well.”

Well, fuck. 

Pushing away from Cas, Dean all but ran up the stairs to his room, shutting and locking the door behind him. He dropped onto the end of his bed and covered his face with his hands. 

Dean could hear the universe laughing at him, and for one frantic moment, he wondered if Sam had set all of this up - if Sam had known Dean would be stupidly attracted to this stupidly gorgeous male stripper - that would be just the kind of thing Sam would do.

No, it wasn’t enough to find Dean a roommate - nope, Sam just had to go and play matchmaker, too!

Groaning, Dean stood and pulled socks out of his dresser, shifting miserably at the feel of his boxers. He didn’t dare put on panties, and even though he appreciated the silkiness and dramatic patterns of his expensive Ethika boxer briefs, panties reigned supreme. Staring longingly at his underwear drawer, he put his shoes and socks on and left the room. 

* * *

 

“Dad had to work?” Dean asked his mom. 

“Yup. He should be off next week. He was complaining that he never sees you anymore.”

“M’busy,” Dean muttered.

“So Cas? He’s cute, funny, intelligent, and polite.”

“Not you too,” Dean groaned, rinsing a plate. 

“What?” Mary took the plate from him and dried it. “He’s a nice man.”

“I swear everyone is laughing at me.”

“No one’s laughing at you, Dean. But he’s nice, and you’ve been alone since -”

“Nope. Don’t even go there.”

“I’m just saying -”

“Mom, I love with you everything in me, but please don’t. Ok?”

“Alright then.”

Cas stepped back into the kitchen, arms full of more lunch dishes. "Here you are," he smiled, setting them carefully in the hot water. Dean didn't miss how their sides brushed together as he did. "You're an incredible cook, Mrs. Turner. I really appreciate the effort that went into cooking an entirely vegan meal just because I was coming for lunch."

"Please, call me Mary. I’m sorry my husband, Rufus, couldn't join us. He had to fill in for another officer that needed some emergency time off. And the meal was definitely no trouble at all."

"Besides," Dean mumbled, "Sam's half a vegan anyway. We always eat like this."

"Oh, shut up. We can't always have burgers and pie," Sam complained, setting a few more dishes in the sink. "Not every meal has to be a cheeseburger in paradise. Half the time, our meals are kosher for Dad anyway."

"Don't you dare use Jimmy Buffet against me, Death Cab," Dean growled, still stuck on the cheeseburger in paradise dig. 

"Hey. Death Cab is better than half the crap you listen to!"

"Boys -" 

"You're seriously going to tell me your emo, whiny, crying-in-my-Smart Car crap is better than Page and Plant?" Dean raised a challenging eyebrow at his brother who crossed his arms over his chest and glared.

"Yes." 

"Are they arguing about music again?" Jess giggled, placing the salad bowl on the counter.

"Of course they are," Mary sighed, drying a plate. 

"Zep versus Death Cab. Help me out here, gorgeous," Dean pleaded with Jess. 

"Sorry, Dean, not getting involved."

"I like George Michael," Cas declared. 

"George Michael!" Sam clutched his stomach and bent over laughing. "Oh, I could tell you some stories about George Michael!"

Dean felt the blush start at his neck and climb up his heated face. "Shut up, Sam!" he hissed. 

"Oh yes," Mary smiled. "I remember someone used to have at least three posters of George Michael in his room."

"Really?" Cas and Jess said in unison, voices full of interest. 

"Yup! And he had one pinned over his bed so he could stare at him while he fell asleep at night! Half-dressed 90's George in jeans and leather jacket and nothing else. Heck, all these years later, all it takes is the first few bars of  _ Father Figure _ to get you all turned on, am I right?" Sam laughed.

Dean dropped the sponge, spun on his heel, stalked out of the kitchen and right out the front door.

He heard both his mother and brother calling him, apology in Sam's voice, but he didn't stop until he reached the safety of his car. Dean climbed into the car and fired it up, jacked up  _ Master of Puppets _ as loud as he could stand, and peeled out of his mother's driveway. 

* * *

 

"Well. Guess I'm taking you home, then." Sam shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, Cas."

"As long as you get me home, it's not a big deal. However, I do think you owe your brother an apology."

"Agreed," Mary slapped Sam's arm. "You took that entirely too far."

"Sorry, Mom."

"I'm not the one you need to apologize to. And I'll drive Cas home. I don't think Dean would be too pleased to have you pull up at his house right now, do you?"

Sam looked properly chastised. "Yeah. Probably not."

"You and Jess can finish the clean up while I drive Cas home. Don't forget to lock up." Mary kissed Jess on the cheek. "Good to see you again, honey. Make a plate for Rufus and take the leftovers home." She leaned up and kissed Sam's cheek. "And you call your brother later and apologize. You know how hard he's struggled with this. I know it's a sibling rivalry thing - but there are some things you just shouldn't tease Dean about, ok?"

"Yeah, Mom. You're right."

"Ok, see you both later." She fetched her keys and purse while Cas said his goodbyes. "Don't forget to lock up!" she called again on her way out. 

Cas followed Mary out to her car, climbing into the passenger side when she hit the unlock button. She pulled the Charger out of the driveway and they traveled the first several miles in silence, Cas deep in thought. 

"So. My boys do know how to get on each other’s nerves, don't they? Do you have any siblings, Cas?"

"One brother. I don't see him often. We're not close like Sam and Dean."

"My boys are close," Mary agreed. "Very close. Which means they know how to push each other's buttons better than most."

Cas chuckled. "Seems like they might."

"It’s just that Dean has been through a lot in the last several years and he's worked very hard to put it all behind him. He's out and proud now, but sometimes Sam's teasing can put him back in that place where he isn't comfortable with who he is. My ex-husband did a lot of damage to Dean, even with Rufus and I having full custody of the boys, and it's taken a lot to undo it. For years, he hated who he was and -" Mary paused, glanced over at Cas and smiled. "Hmm. I don't think that's my story to tell."

"I understand."

"Just be patient with Dean. I'm his mom and I can tell he likes you. Be patient." She repeated as she reached across the console and patted Cas's leg. "I like you, too. You'll be over next Sunday as well?"

Cas smiled. "Wouldn't miss it."

“Good. My husband will be off work next week, and I know he’d love to meet you.”

“I look forward to it.”


	2. Don't Be So Hard on Yourself

Dean pushed his Baby's pedal to the floor, soaking up the vibrations as she rocketed towards eighty miles per hour, Lars Ulrich's driving drum line spurring him on. Damn Sam and his unhumorous humor. It’s not like he hadn’t been there, hadn’t seen what Dean had been through - and did he have to embarrass him in front of Cas?

Swiping angrily at the wetness on his face, Dean didn’t notice the flare of red and blue behind him at first. When he finally did notice, he groaned. He was doing well  _ over _ eighty on RT10. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” he cursed, slowing and pulling to the side of the road. He hadn’t even gotten that far out of Lawrence, and he groaned again when he saw who got out of the Shawnee County Sheriff’s car. “Oh fuck me,” he whined, shutting off the car and dropping his forehead to the steering wheel.

“Afternoon, Mr. Winchester,” Sheriff Jody Mills said pleasantly. “Any reason you’re flying down the road like a maniac?”

“No reason,” Dean muttered into the steering wheel. 

“Everything ok, hon?”

“Yeah, fine, Jody. Just give me my ticket.”

“Dean, as fast as you were going, it’s going to be an automatic court appearance.”

“Of course it is.”

“C’mon, look at me. You’re going to give me a complex here.”

Reluctantly, Dean raised his head and looked up at the Sheriff.

“Oh, sweetie. Why are you crying?”

“M’not,” Dean mumbled. 

“See, I’m used to young women using tears to get out of a ticket -”

“I’m not trying to get out of it!” Dean yelled, swiping at a fresh wave of tears. “Just give me the damn ticket so I can go!”

“Did you see John today?” Jody asked softly.

“What? No. No I’m - just give me the ticket so I can salvage a little bit of my pride. Please?”

“So, ok, it might be playing favorites, but since I’ve known you since you were a snot nosed kid -”

“Jody -” Dean whined, covering his face again. 

“Consider this a warning to slow your ass down before I find it necessary to impound this pretty little car of yours or have a nice, long talk with your stepdad.” She handed Dean a sheet of paper. “And that’s the date and time I expect you to come to dinner at my house. Bring your brother and his girlfriend. And your date, if you have one.”

“Ok, ok, can I go now? Please?”

“Sure,” Jody said, reaching through the window to ruffle Dean’s hair. “Take care, sweetie. And slow down!”

Dean sat and waited for Jody to get back in her car and pull away. Five minutes slipped by, as he just sat on the side of the road staring at the asphalt and waiting for the tears to dry up. 

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, rubbing at his eyes. Dean turned the key in the ignition, starting the Impala. He sat there for a moment more, wiped the last remnants of tears from his cheeks, and pulled back out onto the road. He didn’t bother to turn the music back on, weariness making his shoulders slump. Dean got home about forty-five minutes later, hitting the automatic button for the garage door as he pulled into the driveway.

He backed the Impala into her spot, lowering the door as soon as her nose was safely tucked in. Dean sat in the car for a bit, listening to the engine tick as it cooled. His eyes were raw and scratchy and all Dean could think about at that moment was getting inside the house and upstairs to his big tub - never mind that he had three days of missed work to catch up on, or that he hadn't even started that week's laundry, or prepared his salad for lunch the next day. 

Dean let his head fall forward to rest on the Impala's steering wheel again. He wondered briefly if Zachariah would write him up for missing another day of work. Everyone had been so flustered by him taking three days off. Just because a executive VP had three weeks of vacation didn't mean the company wanted him to actually use them, and he hadn't taken more than a few hours off in the last three years. 

Sighing, Dean finally pulled his key from the ignition and dragged himself into the house. Early evening sun lit the dust motes in the kitchen as he dropped his keys on the table and went in search of beer. 

There was no beer. 

Dean knew there was nothing stronger in the house. Sam claimed that Dean had a bad habit of attempting to drink away his problems, and he’d made it such an issue that Dean had gotten rid of all the hard stuff. He was definitely regretting that decision. 

Snagging a bottle of Perrier instead, and wondering for the hundredth time why he bothered to drink the stuff in the first place, Dean walked out of the kitchen and nearly had a heart attack as Cas let himself in the front door. 

“Oh shit! I forgot you!” he exclaimed. 

“It’s alright. You were upset and your mother was fine with bringing me home. I believe Sam will be calling you later this evening to apologize.”

“Fab.” Dean watched as Cas shut and locked the door. “I really am sorry.”

“It’s not a problem. Sam clearly embarrassed you.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, face burning. He scratched the back of his neck. “Sometimes he’s really good at that.”

Cas nodded, and the two of them stood there for a moment, in the six by eight tiled entryway, staring at each other. 

“Uh,” Dean said finally, “I am um - I got a lot of work to do and I need to get started. I missed three days last week. Lot to catch up on.”

“Your job seems very demanding.”

“It can be. And I still need to make lunch and start my laundry - crap.”

“It was an eventful couple of days. I will make your lunch and the laundry can likely wait.”

“Cas, you don’t have to -”

“What would you like? I might need to go to the store.”

“No, I have the stuff. I usually just take a salad and some grilled chicken or something.” Dean turned from Cas and led the way back into the kitchen. He pulled open the fridge. “Well, shit. I um, I don’t have much of anything. I need to go to the store.” His shoulders slumped, already tired at just the mere thought of going back out.

“Do you trust me?”

“What?” He closed the fridge and turned back to Cas.

“Do you trust me to make you a decent lunch?”

“Well, yeah, but -”

“No buts,” Cas smiled. “I’m going to the store and you can get started on your work. Any food allergies or hard dislikes I should know about?”

“No allergies, but I hate lima beans, and you really don’t have to -”

Cas reached out and laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder. Sparks ignited under Dean’s skin and it took everything he had not to stare at the hand on him. “I want to. Get your work done. I’ll be back shortly.”

“Ok,” Dean said softly. 

Tossing a gorgeous, gummy smile at him, Cas vanished through the garage door, leaving Dean staring into space and wondering what the hell was going on. 

* * *

 

Cas hauled several grocery bags through the garage and into the kitchen. The big house was quiet. He assumed Dean was in his office working, so Cas got moving on a late dinner for both of them that would make a nice lunch for Dean's Monday. 

He unpacked all the groceries first, stacking the ingredients for dinner on the counter. Cas chuckled to himself as he unloaded tempeh and wheat germ, figuring that Dean had probably never seen these ingredients before and wouldn’t even know what to do with them. Dean’s kitchen was startlingly well organized, and Cas found everything he needed to prepare the meal. An hour later, dinner was in the oven. The kitchen smelled wonderful, and he couldn’t wait to present Dean with his dinner. 

He doubted Dean would even miss the meat. 

When the food was done, he packed a portion for Dean's lunch and set it in the refrigerator. He then went in search of his roommate. 

Dean’s spacious office was empty, although his Mac was running through a screen saver sequence. Curious, Cas stepped further into the room, investigating the spines of the novels neatly organized on the lovely oak built-ins.

Dragging his fingers along titles by Bukowski, Hemingway, and Vonnegut, he saw several books he planned to ask Dean if he could borrow. Another set of shelves contained business textbooks and insurance code books for Kansas. Yet another shelf must’ve been his “nerd shelf”, where titles like  _ Harry Potter _ and _ Fahrenheit 451 _ sat. 

Another shelf contained books about car design, auto engineering, classic cars, histories of both General Motors and Ford, along with several sketchbooks. Opening one at random, Cas was surprised by the highly detailed drawings of a variety of automobiles. There was a small DW scratched onto the bottom of each drawing, almost as if Dean was too shy to make a larger mark. 

“Talented,” Cas muttered to himself before setting the sketchpad back on the shelf. 

On Dean’s impressive oak desk sat the computer, humming as the screensaver moved through several shots of Dean’s car. Lined across the surface of the desk were several framed photos. Picking one up, he smiled at the image of a teenaged Dean and prepubescent Sam. Mary stood with a hand on each of their shoulders, and a handsome black man stood taller than all of them with his arm around Mary. Rufus, Cas thought, Mary’s husband and the brothers’ stepfather. 

All four of them were beaming, a Christmas tree glittering in the background. 

Smiling at Dean’s nerdy black glasses, Cas set the picture back on the desk and left the office, shutting the lights off behind him. 

He checked all the other rooms of the house, finally finding Dean sprawled across his bed, iPad face down on his chest, and Macbook in screensaver mode on top of his briefcase. Papers were spread all over the made bed, but Dean’s eyes were closed, and he was clearly sound asleep. A pair of tortoise framed reading glasses were set slightly askew on his freckled nose, and his chest rose and fell with the rhythm of deep sleep. 

Cas smiled fondly at him. In just forty-eight short hours, this man had wormed his way straight into his heart. Stepping further into the room, he gently closed the laptop, lifting it and the briefcase and setting them on the cedar chest at the end of Dean’s bed. He then carefully stacked all the papers and set them on top of the laptop. The iPad was laid on top of everything. Cas shut off all but one light in the room before carefully taking Dean’s glasses off and setting them on the nightstand. He pulled Dean’s sneakers off and set them in the closet. 

He stood and debated whether or not he should remove any more of Dean’s clothing, but his jeans did seem to be somewhat on the tight side, and he was sure Dean would be more comfortable without them. Decision made, Cas carefully unbuckled Dean’s belt and gently unbuttoned his fly. He slid the jeans off Dean’s legs, a little disappointed to find boxer briefs instead of panties, even if they did have an attractive rainbow print. Cas dumped the jeans on the floor. Deciding to press his luck a little more, he sat on the edge of the bed to work the buttons on Dean’s green flannel shirt. He undid the buttons and carefully lifted Dean into his arms to slide the shirt off his shoulders. The shirt hit the floor and Dean sagged into his arms. 

Dean’s arms wrapped tight around Cas’s waist and he nuzzled his face into Cas’s neck. “M’nice,” he murmured, pressing his lips to the skin there.

Cas froze. “Dean,” he whispered, while attempting to get Dean unwrapped and back on the bed. Dean’s octopus grip tightened, and he snuggled closer into Cas. 

“Smell good,” he murmured. “S’good.”

Smiling, Cas carefully reached behind him and unwound Dean’s arms, laying him gently back on the bed. “Must be a very nice dream,” he said softly, pulling the comforter and top sheet out from underneath Dean. “I’ll let you get back to it.” He tucked the blankets over Dean, watching as the man twisted himself into a comfortable position with his arms wrapped around the other pillows. Cas shut off the last light and left the room. “Sleep well, Dean,” he whispered, pulling the door shut behind him. 

Back downstairs, Cas ate a portion of the eggplant parm he’d made, packaging the leftovers when he was done. Remembering that Dean seemed distressed that he’d not gotten to the laundry, Cas went to the laundry room and put a load of jeans in Dean’s state of the art washer.

After all of that was done, and the kitchen totally clean, Cas went back to Dean’s office and pulled  _ For Whom the Bell Tolls  _ off the shelf. In his spacious bedroom, he tossed it in the middle of his bed, sighing as he studied all the boxes still piled around his room, his stripper pole lying under the window. Perhaps Dean would help him install it. 

It was only nine, he could unpack a few boxes before going to bed. Since his room also had several built in bookshelves, Cas pulled all his book boxes across the floor. He spent an hour unloading boxes and shelving books, the task giving him quite a bit of satisfaction. Cas loved his books; seeing them on shelves made him feel even more at home. 

He stacked the empty, flattened boxes beside the door, ready to go to the recycle pile in Dean’s garage. Changing into sweats, he crawled into his bed with the book. His cell buzzed.

_ -Is Dean ok? _

_ -I don’t know. He’s sleeping. _

_ -Can I call you? _

_ -Sure. _

A moment later, his phone rang, Sam’s handsome face grinning at him from the screen. 

"Hey," Sam greeted him. 

"Hello, Sam."

"So uh, is Dean ok? He's not still upset is he?"

"He seems a little off balance, but not terribly distressed."

"I texted him that I wanted to talk but he didn't respond. I think he's really mad at me. And to be honest," Sam sighed, "he should be. That was a low blow. Pretty ashamed of myself."

"I understand, but I'm not the one you should be telling this."

"Just, I miss that Dean. The crazy guy who was nuts about George Michael and spontaneous and silly and - now all he does is work, work, work. I miss him."

"We all grow up eventually."

"It's not just growing up - I don't know how to explain it. He used to be so chill and then he decided to go to college and it's like part of him died in college. I dunno."

“Sam, I don’t quite understand why you’re telling me this.”

Sam huffed. “Me neither - just I think you could be good for him, y’know?”

“I don’t think -”

“I don’t mean that. I just mean you’re so chill and kinda free-spirited, and maybe you can help him lighten up a bit.”

“I’m not here to fix your brother,” Cas frowned. “And I don’t think he needs fixing to begin with. He’s a lovely man. Sometimes, that’s just how it is. We grow out of our personalities and grow into a new one.”

“Cas -”

“You say you don’t want Dean to be angry with you, but what you’re doing right now is meddling. And it’s not fair to Dean. If your goal in having me move in with your brother was for me to change him, to fix him, I think you’ve gotten the wrong idea about me.”

“Shit, Cas, that’s not - I didn’t mean -”

“I’m tired. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“And now you’re pissed at me.”

“More disappointed. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” 

“Alright. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Cas ended the call and set his phone on his nightstand. 

Sam wanted him to fix Dean. No matter how much he denied it, that’s what he was looking for. Cas would just have to show him there was nothing wrong with Dean to begin with. 

* * *

 

The next few days were hell. Absolute hell.

Missing three days of work had totally set him back, and Dean spent all of Monday making his apologies to Mr. MacLeod and Mr. Adler. The next two days were an endless stream of catch up, apologies, and meetings. 

By Wednesday, his exhaustion had reached epic levels, and all Dean wanted to do was go home and crawl into bed. At least he knew he wouldn’t have to worry about dinner. Cas had something hot and delicious waiting every night. Monday he had homemade eggplant parmesan in his lunch. Dean wasn’t even aware such a thing existed. That night, Cas presented him with spinach and vegan cheese stuffed pasta rolls. Tuesday, Cas made homemade ciabatta and vegetable soup. And Cas was right - he didn’t miss the meat at all. 

Dean pulled his BMW into the garage and hit the button to close the door. Smiling ruefully at Cas's powder blue Prius, he gave the hood of Baby an affectionate pat as he passed her. Letting himself into the house, he could hear the thump of rhythmic bass thudding through the walls. The smell of something downright intoxicating caught his nose, and he followed the smell to the kitchen. 

A crock pot bubbled merrily, and opening the lid, he caught the scent of cinnamon, garlic, and some other wonderful things. "Damn, Cas, should have your own restaurant." The thumping bass continued, accompanied by odd thunks on the ceiling above, which is where Cas's room was located. "Dude," Dean muttered, staring up at the ceiling, "What the fuck are you doing up there?"

Curiosity won out, and Dean wandered up the stairs. He dropped his briefcase in his office and wandered down the hall to Cas's room. 

_ "Hey you're just too funky for me, gotta get inside of you, and I'll show ya Heaven, if you let me." _

Dean flushed at the sound of George Michael's voice seductively purring the words to  _ Too Funky. _ He remembered Cas saying that he also liked George Michael, and he pushed the slightly ajar door open. 

His jaw hit the ground. 

Apparently, Cas had found someone to help him install the stripper pole, as he was swinging around it, body sinuous and undulating as he rotated slowly. His eyes were closed; he appeared to be deep in concentration, but all Dean really noticed was what he was wearing - or rather, wasn't wearing. 

All Cas had on was the tiniest pair of blue booty shorts Dean had ever seen. 

_ "Would you like me to seduce you? Is that what you're trying to tell me?" _

_ "Everybody wants the lovin' I got!" _

Cas planted both feet on the floor, gripped the pole in one hand, and leaned backwards, his other hand eventually landing on the floor behind him as he contorted his body into an impossible arch, and he thrust his hips into the air. Dean's fingers dug into the collar of his shirt, loosening the oddly too tight tie and willing his pounding heart to calm the fuck down already. He wordlessly begged his feet to move, to carry him away from Cas's door and to the safety of his bedroom, but his traitorous legs denied him. 

Cas stood, eyes still closed, reached out for the pole and swung himself around, back parallel to the floor.There was a massive set of black, tattooed wings on his back, and they rippled with every move of his muscles. He spread his legs in a V and spun. 

Legs finally clicking into gear, Dean managed to pull himself away from Cas's door and he dashed down the hall to his own room, shutting the door behind him. He leaned with his back against it, willing his heart to cool it and his boner to take a hike. 

Cas was sex on a pole. Dancing to George Michael, composer of the soundtrack of his tumultuous self-discovery years. 

Was this what a heart attack felt like?

Dean stripped his suit jacket and tossed it on the bed. He kicked his shoes off. The boner was not going away. "Fuck it," he muttered, stripping the rest of his clothes off. Dean stomped, naked, into his bathroom, opening the taps on his tub. Watching the water fill, he ran his hand down his dick, shivering at the contact of his palm on overheated flesh. "Fuck," he murmured, sliding his hand up and down the shaft with a loose grip. He leaned back against the wall of his bathroom, let his head fall back. 

He was ashamed a bit, when he realized Cas had moved in exactly five days prior, and in that span of five days, he'd come four times with Cas's name on his lips. 

Might as well make it five. 

Shutting the water off, Dean lowered his body into the hot water, hand still wrapped around himself. He swept his other hand over his chest, sucking in a deep breath at the sensation. His grip tightened, sliding up and down, the way eased by a little soap. 

_ Get off and get clean all at the same time _ , he thought. 

Dean let his mind wander, calling up the images he'd just seen. Cas, hotter than hell on his pole. He wondered what it would be like to get a private lap dance. Dick twitching in his palm, Dean groaned. Maybe Cas would writhe against him, so close, but following the rules. Cas can touch, Dean can't. Can't touch the dancers. 

Swallowing a groan, Dean brushed his fingers over his balls, rolling them a bit. God, it felt so good, and the images in his mind - Cas bending him over the hood of the Impala, bending him over the table, over the bed, over any surface, really - made the blood boil in his veins. Fuck, he wanted Cas so bad. It made his cheeks flush and his breath quicken, and he let a whispered  _ “Cas” _ slide past his lips. 

Speaking of lips, he imaged Cas’s slightly chapped but incredibly soft looking set wrapped around his length, tongue doing gold medal worthy gymnastics over his flesh. The thought made a fresh wave of arousal sweep up his spine, and he was unable to hold back a moan. “Fuck, Cas,” he whispered, letting his head fall back against the wall. 

He was already so close, but Dean guessed that’s what happened when you didn’t have sex for two years. That made Dean’s thoughts darken, and he fought to hold on to his arousal. 

Aaron’s face flashed in his mind, and the hot water felt oddly cold against his skin. He tried desperately to pull Cas back into focus, but Aaron was stubborn, refusing to fade from view. 

His erection wilted a bit. 

“No. Nope. No,” he muttered, tightening his grip and stroking harder. He was not going to think about Aaron. He and Aaron were done. Very done - but Aaron wasn’t going away.  _ You want me to move in. You want to get married. Get real, Dean. You’re married to work. Have been since I met you. _

He gave his rapidly softening dick a few more half hearted strokes. Dean blinked back tears, letting go of his dick and slumping into the bathtub up to his shoulders. He wasn’t sure he’d even really loved Aaron; but that didn’t mean his words didn’t hurt, that it didn’t hurt to watch Aaron walk away from him for that last and final time. 

_ I love you. I do. But I don’t think you love me. Or at least, you don’t love me like I do you. Maybe we just aren’t meant to be. I don’t know.  _ Aaron had gotten in his car, his face sad and disappointed as tears rolled down his face. 

One stupid tear slipped out and Dean swiped at it angrily. He stared down at his woefully flaccid dick and washed the rest of the soap away. Sliding further down into his big tub, he laid his head on the side, lost in thought. 

The water had gone cold before he managed to drag himself out of it. 

* * *

 

Dean was... _ off _ .

Cas was still riding his endorphin high from his vigorous workout slash practice session when they sat down for dinner, but Dean seemed very distracted. He'd been quiet throughout dinner, although he did thank Cas for cooking the Lebanese sweet potato stew. Dean hadn’t finished his bowl and refused to meet Cas’s eyes. Cas couldn’t help but worry that he’d done something wrong. 

They cleaned the kitchen together and Cas packed a portion of the stew for Dean’s lunch. While Cas put the dishes away, Dean fixed himself a cup of hot cocoa and sat at the table. He pulled his iPad and a legal pad out of his briefcase and stared at them. 

“I should get some work done,” he mumbled. 

“Anything I can do to help?”

“No. I’m behind - took off three days before you moved in, and I’m going to be playing catch up for months.” Dean propped his elbow on the table and leaned his hand on his chin. “Worked for them for almost ten years now and this was the first time ever I took any of my vacation days. You’d think I started the apocalypse.”

“Do you like your job?”

Dean looked slightly taken aback. “Uh - yeah, I guess so. I mean, it's not what I wanted to do, but it pays the bills and keeps me in designer clothes.” He didn't sound convinced, almost like he was simply parroting someone else's words. “I must be good at it, since they promoted me way faster than I expected.”

“What did you want to do?” Cas asked. 

“Not important,” Dean muttered. 

“Did it have anything to do with your sketchbooks?”

Dean’s face reddened. “Ah, so you uh - you saw my crappy car drawings, huh?”

“They’re anything but crappy,” Cas informed him. “They’re amazing. Did you want to design cars?”

“Not smart or talented enough for that. That was made pretty clear.” Dean scratched the back of his neck. “I’m going up.”

“Dean -”

Waving him off, Dean gathered his things and left the kitchen. 

* * *

 

_ -What did Dean originally go to college for? _

_ -Mechanical engineering. He dropped the program in his sophomore year and switched to business management. Why? _

_ -He doesn’t seem incredibly happy.  _

Cas’s phone rang. “He’s not,” Sam informed him. “Something happened to him and we have no idea what. He was going to fuckin’  _ MIT _ and dropped out, even though he was maintaining a 4.0. Look, Cas, I’m smart, I know I’m smart, but Dean is like - Dean is like a fucking straight up  _ genius _ !”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. Like whatever happened at MIT, they spent three months after he dropped out trying to get him to come back. He won’t talk about it. I dunno.”

“This is what you meant when you said he’s not himself anymore?”

“Yeah.” Sam sighed. “I wish he would just - when we were kids, we didn’t have any secrets. I was the first person Dean came out to. And now he’s like - there’s like a wall between us,” Sam’s voice cracked. “I miss him so much, Cas.”

“I told you before, Sam. I can’t fix him. I’ll be his friend, but I can’t fix him.”

“He needs friends. He had friends before, good friends, but when he dropped out…” 

“Right.” 

Both men were silent for a moment. 

“I should look up Charlie and Ash. Maybe they might have some insight. It’s been years though.”

“You do that. Meanwhile, I’ll just do what I can for him. You’re right about one thing. He isn’t happy. He puts on a good show, but he’s miserable. And your brother is sweet and kind. He really does deserve better.”

“He deserves everything good, believe me. A lot of Dean’s problems go back to my dad. I mean, our bio-dad, John. Dean and I consider Rufus our real dad in every way.” Sam huffed. “John’s a homophobic bastard.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Mom left him when Dean was like six, but she said John really messed Dean up a lot. Dean was always - I dunno, different? Like a lot of little boys play baseball, but Dean took ballet and tap class. And when he was like ten or so, and I remember this - I was six and I remember this. Anyway, John showed up at Dean’s dance recital, drunk off his ass, and called his ten year old son a fag in front of the whole audience.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. Mom filed for sole custody after that. She won, obviously. Dad wanted to adopt us, but John refused to sign his rights away. He’s a terrible guy, Cas. And every now and then, he’ll pop up, say a bunch of horrible shit to Dean, and leave us to clean up the mess.”

“No wonder you call Rufus Dad.”

“Rufus is pretty much the only Dad I’ve ever known. I think John forgets I exist most of the time. He’s always been weirdly fixated on Dean.” Sam sighed. “I’m really sorry I dumped all of this on you.”

“I did ask,” Cas said. 

“Still.”

“Don’t worry about it. I wanted to know, and it does give me some insight.” Cas picked at a cuticle and chose his next words carefully. “I will watch over him. Sam, I won’t lie, I’m interested in Dean. I just - I don’t think that’s what he wants or needs.”

Sam chuckled. “He likes you too. He’s probably too terrified to make a move, but I know he likes you.”

“If you say so.”

“He’s my brother. I  _ know _ so.”


	3. Pull Me Out From Inside

A month went by. Cas moved into the house in April. Dean blinked and it was May. His roommate would be graduating soon and was utterly consumed by his finals. Not that it mattered. Dean needed to throw himself into work with everything in him. 

“I’m very disappointed in you, boy.” Fergus MacLeod, aka Crowley to his employees, glared at Dean from behind a thick file folder. “I had high hopes for you.”

“Are you -” Dean swallowed, “are you firing me?”

“Considering it. Zachariah believes I should.”

“Because I took a few days off a month ago?”

“Your numbers are down. Significantly. You’ve failed to bring in any new accounts in the past two weeks, and one of your higher performers left us for New York Life.” Crowley stood, crossed his sumptuous office and poured himself a glass of whiskey. “And this was after you lost a client when you abruptly took three days off.”

“I had the days to use,” Dean said softly. 

“Mr. Winchester. To play at the level I expect you to play, time off is something that must be carefully negotiated and thought out. You left us in the lurch. Why? What was so important?”

Dean stared down at the floor. “I wasn’t feeling well,” he murmured. 

“Because your moose of a brother moved out, correct?” 

“N-no -”

“Don’t lie to me. I can see straight through you. I need aggressive performers. I’ve got Gordon Walker breathing down my neck, ready to jump into your position the moment I say go. And he’s been here much longer than you.” Crowley settled back into his chair. “Figure it out. Or get out. Your choice, pet.” He waved a hand at Dean, making it more than clear that the conversation was over. 

Dean pulled himself out of the chair and turned to leave the office. He stopped in the doorway and looked back at Crowley. “Sir -”

“No. No excuses. Results.”

Nodding, Dean left as calmly as he could manage, darting into the bathroom the second he was out of Crowley’s sight. He pushed into the first available stall and sat down, covering his face with his shaking hands. 

* * *

 

The house was empty when he got home, and his heart sank a little. He needed someone to talk to, and besides Sam, Cas was really all Dean had. He could talk to his mom, but she’d worry if he told her he was afraid of losing his job. Come to think of it, Sam would tell him it was probably a good thing. He wouldn’t understand either. 

God, he wanted a drink. He wanted to get sloppy drunk and sit in his tub with bubbles up to his neck. 

Well, he could do that at least. 

Dean started the water in the tub and dumped a liberal amount of lavender bubble bath inside. In his spacious closet, he carefully stripped, hanging his Varvatos suit back on the hanger. His tie went back on the tie rack, and his tie tack and cufflinks were carefully placed in the special drawer made just for his smaller accessories. 

Naked save for the accursed boxers (he hadn’t felt like wearing panties in quite a while), Dean considered his closet. He had way more suits, ties, and shoes than any one man needed. He had too many cars. Too big of a house. 

When had he gotten so damn greedy?

Completely and thoroughly depressed, Dean left his closet and walked into the bathroom. He lit a few candles and shut off the water. Sinking down into the bubbles, Dean wondered when his life had gone wrong. 

Actually, he knew exactly when. And it was the absolute last thing he wanted to think about. 

* * *

 

“Do you feel ready for the final for my class? I could help you study,” Sam offered, joining Cas in the office. “I think you’ll ace it, but I want to make sure you’re ready.”

“Yours is the only final I’m one hundred percent confident I’ll pass. I’m not worried.”

“Alright.” Sam settled at his desk and opened his laptop. “Have you read any of these WWII papers yet? I swear the freshman are ignoring every other word out of my mouth. Like, ‘the Holocaust was a terrible time in human history’ which is fine but then they go on to write, ‘so many people died I’m not sure that it really happened - historians could’ve made it up’.” Sam slapped his forehead. “Made up the Holocaust. Like really? What the fuck.”

“You’ll love this one. ‘Hitler had some good ideas’. I’m disgusted by the very idea of this paper,” Cas groused. “Hitler was garbage. And this is utterly anathema to everything you’ve taught them this year.”

“Pfft, tell me about it.” Sam typed for a bit. “Hey, I got an idea. You’re graduating, you be the Professor and I’ll be the TA. You can grade this shit.”

Cas chuckled. “I am grading this shit.”

“Oh. Yeah, right haha.”

They worked in companionable silence for a while, with only the sound of clacking computer keys as a backdrop. 

Leaning back in his chair to stretch, Cas glanced at his phone. “It’s after six. I’m going to head out, as should you. Gotta stop at the store.”

“Aw, out of wheat germ?”

“No, I need to pick up the vegan cheese I like. I’m making Dean black bean tacos tonight. You know he’s been eating fully vegan meals since I moved in? He seems to enjoy my cooking. Told me the other night he doesn’t even miss the meat.” Cas smiled to himself as he packed up his laptop, not even realizing that Sam had fallen silent. 

He looked up. 

Sam had his chin on his hand, smiling sappily at Cas. “Awwwww,” he said. 

“Very funny. He likes what I’ve been cooking. Big deal.”

“And you like that he likes it. You’ve got Dean ‘I love rare steak’ Winchester eating vegan. Sounds adorable,” Sam chuckled. 

“He’s - I don’t know. He seems sad all the time. I think he’s just happy to have someone looking after him a bit. I imagine it’s lonely, his life.”

The humor ran away from Sam’s face. “I know he’s lonely. It’s why I waited so long to move in with Jess. We actually talked about her staying with us, but with me here at KU, and her in Manhattan at K State, it would have been ridiculous for her to move up to Overland Park. It’s far enough with both of us driving home to Topeka every night.”

“I understand. Trust me, I’m quite content, living with Dean. He’s my friend. I’m glad you set this up.”

“Your friend?” Sam asked, a little note of hope in his voice. 

“Don’t start. I won’t push him and he would need to make the first move if that’s the way he wants things to go.”

“Then you’ll be waiting forever,” Sam said glumly. “Dean isn’t a first move kind of guy.” He closed his own laptop and shoved it into a bag. “Anyway, tomorrow is Saturday and I intend to sleep in. Whatever you don’t get finished can be done later. I’m sure you’ve got to work this weekend anyway, right?”

“Yes.” Cas finished packing his own things. “Sam, for what’s it worth -” He sighed. “I do care about him. A lot. But I’m scared of pushing him away.”

“I know.”

Cas nodded and slung his bag over his shoulder. He waved goodnight to Sam and left, heading out to his Prius. A quick stop at his favorite vegan grocery and it was just after seven when he pulled into the garage. 

The house was dark and Dean was nowhere to be found, although all of his cars were in the garage. Cas wavered between checking on Dean and starting dinner. He pulled out a pan and started making the black bean mixture that would replace the taco meat, deciding that dinner could simmer while he checked on Dean. Once dinner was rolling, he headed upstairs to find his roommate. 

Dean was laying in the center of his bed in just a pair of boxers. He had a washcloth over his eyes. 

“Are you ok?” Cas asked softly. 

“No.”

Cas frowned. “What can I do to help?”

“Dunno.”

“Would you prefer I leave you alone? Dinner is just about ready, and I have to work tonight, so you’ll have the house to yourself.”

“Not really hungry,” Dean muttered. 

“Ok.” Cas turned to leave Dean’s room. “I could take tonight off,” he offered from the doorway. 

“It’s ok. Don’t have to derail your life to deal with mine.” Dean rolled into a sitting position and threw the washcloth into the bathroom. Even from his spot by the door, Cas could see that Dean’s eyes were bloodshot. 

He’d obviously been crying. 

“Dean, what can I do to help?”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, that much is obvious. Please, I’d like to help. Even if all you want is company or someone to listen and I -”

The doorbell rang. 

Cas sighed. “Be right back.”

He headed downstairs and opened the front door. A short red headed woman stood on the other side, wearing a Princess Leia shirt. “Is Dean home? Do I have the right house? I think I do, but this is a super fancy joint and I dunno but -”

“Charlie?” Dean asked, voice full of disbelief. 

The woman looked up, a huge grin splitting her face. “Handmaiden!” Her eyes swept over his lack of clothes. “Dude, at least put some pants on.”

Dean’s lip quivered as he made his way down the stairs. Cas stepped aside to let Charlie in and Dean threw himself into her arms. 

“Oh, dude,” she whispered, running a hand over his back. “I missed you, too. Why the hell did we let so much time go by?” 

“Dunno,” Dean mumbled. 

Cas left them alone, heading back upstairs to grab his work bag. His thoughts were going at a million miles a minute. Cas could only assume that was the Charlie Sam had mentioned more than a month ago - one of Dean’s two best friends from college. He found them sitting in the kitchen and let them know dinner was ready before making his excuses and heading out to work. 

* * *

 

“You should probably put some pants on,” Charlie smiled. “I like the big growly tiger on your boxers, but pants are awesome.”

“I missed you,” Dean said, aware of how wobbly his voice sounded. 

Charlie reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “I missed you too. Why did we let eighteen years slip by? You were my best friend in the whole damn world.”

Dean didn’t even try to fight the tears that slipped down his cheeks. “Everything went to hell and I had to get out of there.”

“But you never told me why. What happened?” 

He pulled his hand free and stood, crossing the kitchen to the stove. Cas’s dinner simmered on low and it looked incredibly appealing, but Dean had zero appetite. Rubbing at his eyes, Dean shut the stove off and grabbed a glass from the cabinet, filling it with water while he stared out his kitchen window. 

A hand landed on his back and he jumped, almost dropping the glass. 

“Please talk to me. Do you know how terrifying it is, to wake up one day and your best friend is just gone? No note, no forwarding address, and then when I do finally find your mom’s number, she tells me you don’t want to talk to anyone. I tried so hard, for three or four years to get back into your life. And you just kept shutting me out. Gives a girl a complex, y’know? Makes me think maybe I did something wrong.”

“Wasn’t you,” Dean mumbled. “Wasn’t you, or Ash, or Garth, or anyone.”

“Then what was it? Dean, you were like - I dunno man. Like Head Boy or something and then you were just gone. Everyone thought you were gonna be the next big thing. Everyone liked you, students and professors -”

Dean let out a bitter chuckle. “Yeah. Sure they did.” He set the glass down and moved away from Charlie. “Yup, cute little Kansas boy Dean. Everyone just loves that freckled wonder.” 

“Dean - you _ were _ loved. A lot. I don’t know how you didn’t see that.”

He could hear the concern in her voice, but Dean was so damn close to breaking. Feeling like a coward, he left the kitchen and headed up the stairs. Charlie called his name but he ignored her, panic rising in his chest. Dean had an overwhelming need to get to his bedroom, his safe place, lock the door and tamp down the memories scratching to rise to the surface. 

Slamming the door shut, he all but dove onto his massive bed, tugging blankets up over himself as he curled into a tight ball. Dean was happy to see Charlie; he really was. He just wasn’t prepared and the wave of memories she brought with her was almost too much. So instead, like the damn coward he truly believed himself to be, he hid. Dean ran away and hid.

“I really am a pathetic piece of shit,” he muttered. 

“No, you’re not.” Charlie was in his room. From the sound of things, she was moving around and turning lights on. “Gonna find you some pants,” his dresser drawers were opened and closed, “then you’re gonna come downstairs and eat. That dude, Cas? Your roommate? I tasted what was in that pan and it’s delish and we’re not gonna let it go to waste so get your ass up.” The comforter suddenly disappeared and Dean rolled onto his back to find Charlie glaring at him, one hand on her hip. “Dude - get up. C’mon.” 

“Ok, ok,” he mumbled. He took the tee and sweats she offered him and tugged them on. Dean didn’t protest as Charlie led him back downstairs to the kitchen, watching as she prepared two plates of food. 

“Looks like tacos,” she said, poking experimentally at the stuff on her plate. 

Dean remembered that Cas had said vegan tacos was the plan for dinner that night. “It is. We need some other stuff.” He got the corn tortillas and vegan cheese out of the fridge, along with all the veggies for toppings. 

“No sour cream?”

“Yeah.” Dean grabbed another small container from the fridge. “It’s made from cashews though. Cas makes it himself. He’s a total vegan. He’s been cooking most of our meals lately, and damn. He’s such a good cook, I don’t really miss the meat. It’s weird. I thought I would but Cas is just like  _ try this, Dean _ and I try it and I like it. He makes this sweet potato curry stew and holy shit, so good.”

“Wow.” Charlie took a tortilla and fixed herself a taco. The first bite had her moaning in ecstasy. “Holy crap, this is amazing!”

“Told ya,” Dean grinned. 

They munched in companionable silence for a bit, although Dean could feel the weight of things unsaid bearing down on his shoulders. He knew Charlie wanted answers, and he was pretty sure he was going to have to give her some. 

“So Cas? You guys are together?”

“What?! No! He’s just my roommate, why would you -”

Charlie grinned and winked. “Ok, ok, sure, I believe you. But you might want to turn down the heart eyes when you wax poetic about his cooking.”

“He’s a good cook,” Dean defended, feeling his cheeks heat. He stared down at his food. To be honest, he didn’t even know what he was eating. It tasted like ground beef tacos, had that texture like ground beef tacos, but knowing Cas, it definitely wasn’t ground beef tacos. Whatever. They were delicious. He shoved another chunk in his mouth to make the point. 

Dinner was finished quietly, and Charlie helped him clean up and store the leftovers. 

“Would you like to stay? We have a guest room.”

“That would be awesome. We’ve got a lot to catch up on. Starting with -”

“No.”

“C’mon, Dean. Who the hell with a bazillion scholarships and a 4.0 bails on MIT? There has to be a good reason and if you’d just tell me -”

“No.” Dean turned and left the kitchen. 

“But it doesn’t make sense. Ok? Can you see that? People were worried.”

“And I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry I dropped off the map and worried you but I do not want to talk about this.” Dean led her into the living room, stopping in front of the shelves. “I have every movie known to man, what do you want to watch?”

“I don’t want to watch anything. I want to talk. You owe me a damn explanation.”

Dean felt his anger growing. “I don’t owe anyone anything.”

“Oh come on! Just tell me and get it over with. Not gonna leave you alone until you do!”

Seeing red, Dean finally exploded. “Professor White, ok? Is that what you want? You want me to tell you about how Professor White bad touched me in his office and I ran because I’m a fucking coward?” He turned, ignoring her shocked and white face. “Want me to tell you about how he told me if I didn’t give him what he wanted, he’d make sure I failed? That my perfect record would disappear? He wanted to bend me over his damn desk, Charlie. I left. I left to get away from him because everyone knows no one would have believed me. Who’d take my word, over the well respected and tenured Alastair White? Huh? No one. That’s who.” 

Charlie looked shocked, eyes full of tears with her hands over her mouth. 

“There you go,” Dean whispered, his own eyes filling with tears. “You got your answer. You’re the first and only person I’ve told. I hope you’re happy now.” He turned and went back upstairs. Stumbling into his room, Dean could barely see for the tears streaming down his face. 

All these years and he’d managed to not think about it, to push it away -

“I’m so sorry,” Charlie whispered, wrapping her arms around him from behind. “I shouldn’t have pushed. I never dreamed it was anything like that. Jesus, Dean, we would have believed you. We would have stood with you.”

“Charlie, that was twenty years ago. There was a story not that long ago about a girl who carried her mattress across the stage at graduation because the school didn’t take her rape seriously. She carried that thing for years as a protest. Twenty years ago, who’s side would they have taken? Not mine, that’s for sure.” He turned. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I have a lot of regrets, and I guess they all just boiled over.” Dean chuckled bitterly. “I hate pretty much my entire life right now. I hate my job. I hate -” he sighed. “I’m sorry.” 

“Did he -” Charlie swallowed. “Did he rape you?”

“No,” Dean murmured. “Not for lack of trying. But he got his hands all over me and that was bad enough. I should have told you. I should have told someone, anyway. Fuck.”

Charlie hugged him fiercely. “It’s ok. It’s alright. I’m glad you told me. Ok? I am.” 

They stood like that for a while. Dean reveled in the feel of her hug. “Fuck, I missed you,” he whispered into her hair. 

“Missed you, too.” She hugged him a minute longer. “Now, since we’ve cleared the air, I think it’s time for ice cream, cookie dough, shit tv, and catching up. What do you say?”

Dean smiled; a real, true, happy smile. “I think that’s the best idea you’ve ever had.”

* * *

 

Cas stepped out of the shower at Heaven ‘N’ Hell, grateful to have all of the glitter, sweat, and errant hands off his body. His left knee ached from a rough landing in the middle of _ Too Funky _ , but it wasn’t that bad. Still, he should probably ice it once he got home. Toweling off quickly, he pulled on boxers and jogging pants with a loose tee. 

Next, he looked over his costume. The tiny blue panties would need to be washed for sure. Between the sweat and the asshole who dumped a beer on him, they were pretty gross. They went into a plastic bag, along with the white garter belt and stockings. Checking his huge black wings for any loose feathers, he carefully covered the harness with a sheet and hung it on the rack. 

“So, Clarence. Looking forward to co-ed night tomorrow? We always get the best tips on co-ed night.” Meg, still in red vinyl hot pants and literally nothing else, strode into the dressing room. She snatched a wet wipe off the counter and started taking off her stage makeup. 

Heaven ‘N’ Hell was a big club, catering to LGBT folks. It had two separate stages, one for male dancers, one for female. The rooms were divided, but the divider was removable. Twice a month, the divider was tucked back into the wall and the show was co-ed. Meg was right, they did make their best tips on co-ed night. 

“I’d honestly considered staying home tomorrow. Dean is -”

“Yes, how is sweet lil ol’ Dean?”

“He’s fine.” Cas’s mood soured. Meg never took anything seriously. “Why do you even ask, if you’re just going to make fun of me?”

“I think it’s cute. Clarence got himself a big ol’ crush.”

Cas shoved his stuff back into his duffel. “I’m out,” he said shortly. 

“Aw, don’t be mad, I didn’t mean it,” Meg cajoled, but Cas ignored her completely, bypassing his coworkers and getting out of the building as quickly as possible.

All he wanted was to get home and make sure Dean was alright. He’d been so quiet the last couple of days and Cas wanted his friend to feel better. Which is why he ended up at the regular grocery store. Dean wasn’t a vegan, despite the fact that he’d been happily - or at least kindly - eating Cas’s creations since he’d moved in. Still, Dean definitely wasn’t a vegan. 

Thinking about all the things Dean seemed to like, Cas filled his cart with stuff he himself didn’t eat anymore - pie, Oreos, soda, beer, ice cream, chips - Cas bought a ton of junk food. He didn’t even know why he was doing it. Eating one’s feelings is never healthy. 

Back home, the house was dark and he wasn’t sure if Charlie was still around or not. He put all the food away and then headed upstairs to check on Dean, mindful of the fact that it was well after three in the morning. 

The TV was on in Dean’s room, flickering blue light over the walls. Dean was curled on his side, with his head on Charlie’s shoulder. They were both sound asleep. An empty bottle of wine sat on the nightstand with two empty glasses and a few sweaty Ben and Jerry’s containers. Cas found the remote and shut off the television. Moving quietly through the room, he snagged the bag of Fritos off the bed and collected the ice cream containers and wine glasses. Back in the kitchen, he tried not to think about how Charlie had obviously had the same comfort food idea he’d had. He couldn’t even explain why it made him feel a little sad. 

Double checking to make sure the downstairs door was locked and the alarm set, he shut off all the lights and headed up to his own room. He stripped down to nothing and curled up in bed. Cas had planned to read for a bit before sleeping, but his brain wouldn’t concentrate on the words on the page. His thoughts were firmly on Dean. He closed his book and laid it on the nightstand, reaching over to shut off the light. 

Cas lay on his bed in the dark, staring at the ceiling and trying to sort out his feelings. 

It wasn’t a restful night, and when he staggered downstairs around noon, he beelined right for the coffee pot, ignoring the instant silence as Charlie and Dean stopped talking. He poured a cup and drank it straight down, chasing it with another full, too hot cup. 

“Rough night?” Dean asked softly. 

“Didn’t sleep much.”

“Oh. Is that why you’re uh - standing in the kitchen naked?”

Cas looked down. He was utterly bare. “Shit.” He was also utterly unembarrassed. He was a stripper after all. Chancing a glance over at Dean, Cas would’ve been lying if he said the attractive red flush on Dean’s face didn’t please him. “I guess I should put some pants on.”

“Understatement,” Charlie groused. 

“Sorry,” he apologized, trying to sound a little sincere, at least for her sake. “I don’t see nudity as a big deal.” 

“And I’m a lesbian, so I literally give no shits. But yeah, pants would be awesome. We’re going out for lunch and I know Dean was hoping you’d come.” 

Was he really? The blush deepened and Dean sort of kicked Charlie under the table.

“It’s not a big deal, ok? Jeez.”

“Well. Let me get dressed then.” 

“Nice wings, by the way,” Charlie offered. 

He turned to look at her. Charlie was resting her chin on her hand, openly staring like she was cataloging every part of him, a little smug grin on her face. He smiled and winked at her and turned back to the pot. Cas took his time making another cup of coffee, fetching almond milk from the fridge, adding sugar, all the things he hadn’t done with the first cup. He could feel Dean’s stare, much as the other man did his best to avoid looking. He also caught the amused twinkle in Charlie’s eyes as he left the kitchen. It was clear that she knew exactly what he was doing - and maybe even approved. 

* * *

 

“He’s going to kill me,” Dean groaned, dropping his head onto the table. “Kill me with his damn hotness.”

“He likes you. And he knows you like him. Why are you fighting it? He’s dreamy,” Charlie sighed. “I mean, lesbian or not, I can appreciate the pure aesthetic beauty of that man. You should totally hit that.”

Dean groaned again and beat his forehead against the wood of his kitchen table. 

“What? Have the sex. It’ll cure what ails you.”

“Yeah, and then he figures out I’m a loser and bails like Aaron did. No thanks.”

Charlie’s fingers rubbed over his scalp soothingly. “So Aaron was a misstep. You told me last night that you’re a different dude now.”

“Can we talk about something else? Anything else?”

“Ok. What are you gonna do about your job situation?”

“Charlie, can we not? Just because I opened up last night doesn’t mean I want to face all this crap in the light of day.”

“So we’re just gonna bury it again? That’s healthy.”

“I can’t quit my job, Charlie. I’ve still got about quarter mil left to pay off on this house, the BMW isn’t paid off, the Vette isn’t paid off, not to mention the credit card debt and I can’t just quit -”

“Ok,” Charlie murmured, squeezing his hand. “It’s ok. Calm down.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. But you definitely might want to think about downsizing. Start paying some stuff off. Do you really need three cars?”

“Probably not,” Dean mumbled. “Guess I could probably sell the Vette.”

“You could get a smaller house, too. You could go back to Cambridge.”

Dean felt the blood drain from his face. “No. Charlie, I can’t go back -”

“I told you White retired. You could. This is not what you were meant to do! You’re not living your best life, you’re settling for something.”

“Please stop, ok? Yeah, I have a lot to think about, but pushing and shoving at me isn’t going to help.”

“Everything ok?” Cas stepped back into the kitchen, thankfully clothed. Although that Elvis shirt couldn’t get much tighter. Damn black skinny jeans, too. 

“Fine,” Dean and Charlie answered in unison. 

“Ooookayyy,” Cas said. “Are we ready? And where are we going?”

Charlie bounced out of her chair and linked arms with Cas. “Dean’s choice. I don’t care where we eat, but buddy, I want to know  _ everything _ about you. So somewhere we can have some nice conversation. Sound good to you, Dean?”

“Sure,” he muttered. 

What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

 

What could go wrong? Charlie and Cas hitting it off, that’s what. They were instant friends, laughing and giggling over the slightest thing, ordering more and more saké. Dean sat in between them in the corner booth, picking at his California rolls and waiting for lunch to come to an end. 

Both of them were more than a little tipsy and so busy discussing all the things they had in common, Dean couldn’t help but feel more than a bit left out. He was in a funk to begin with. This wasn’t helping. Dean wanted to go home and crawl into his bathtub. 

“Gotta pee,” he mumbled, shoving at Charlie until she clambered out of the booth. He could feel both of their eyes on him as he weaved through the tables towards the bathroom. Pushing through the door, he closed himself in a stall, settling down with his pants still on. Dean dropped his head into his hands and breathed, deep and even, trying to calm down. He couldn’t figure out why he was even worked up in the first place. So Charlie and Cas were friends. Who cared? Why should it affect him at all? 

“Dean? Are you alright?”

“Fuck,” Dean breathed, startling slightly. “I’m fine. Just - y’know.”

“You seemed upset when you left the table. Charlie and I did get a little silly. Is that a problem?”

“No - no, it’s fine, I’m fine, it’s cool. I’ll be out in a minute, ok?”

“Alright,” Cas said, sounding unsure. “I could wait for you.”

“Don’t need a bathroom chaperone, Cas. I’m good, promise.”

The door opened and closed again and Dean let out a heavy sigh. “You’re ridiculous,” he told himself. He stood and exited the stall, washing his hands before leaving the bathroom. From across the fairly crowded restaurant, Dean watched as Cas sat back down and laughed at something Charlie said. 

God, he was so glad to have Charlie back in his life. He couldn’t help but smile as she gestured and told Cas something, her face bright and animated. Why had he let so much time go by? What happened at MIT wasn’t her fault, or Ash’s, and he’d just left them behind without a word, completely closing the door on their friendship. 

No, he knew why. Because he was sure he would have lost them anyway if he’d been brave enough to stand up to Professor White instead of running away. 

Dean sighed. 

“We’re just about done,” Charlie told him when he finally returned to the table. 

“Ok.” Dean pulled out his credit card. 

“Nope! This one’s on me,” Charlie informed him, snatching the bill off the table. “You can pay next time.” She kissed his cheek and trotted off to the cashier stand. 

“I like her,” Cas grinned as Dean sat back down. “She’s so lively and funny. I wish I didn’t have to work tonight. We could all do something together.”

“Yeah,” Dean picked up his chopsticks and poked at his leftovers. 

“Are you ok?” Cas asked softly. “You’ve seemed pretty down the last few days.”

“It’s nothing,” Dean muttered, staring down at his plate. “Just work bullshit.”

“Dean, you hate your job. Why don’t you look for something else? I could help.” Cas reached across the table and laid his hand over Dean’s. “I hate to see you so unhappy.”

“You’ve known me all of a month, Cas.”

“So?” Cas squeezed his hand. “I care about you.”

Dean looked up, into deep pools of blue. Cas smiled gently and it felt like the floor was being ripped out from under his feet. Dean could actually feel himself falling, and it fucking _ terrified  _ him. 

“Cas, I -”

“Ok, bitches, we’re good to go!” Charlie plopped back onto the bench as Cas pulled his hand away. “Got boxes too, let’s pack this crap up.”

Sighing internally, thoughts in turmoil, Dean packed up his uneaten sushi. He followed Cas and Charlie out of the restaurant, settled into the back of Cas’s Prius, and did his best to shut his brain off. 

He was, unsurprisingly, totally unsuccessful. 


	4. Put Your Tiny Hand in Mine

“You’re insane.”

“Oh come on, you’ll have fun!”

“I don’t want to.”

“Not giving you a choice. I paid for this Uber. We go where I want.” Charlie grinned. “You’re just afraid you’ll have a good time.”

“No, I just think throwing ones at naked bodies is stupid. Besides, how much enjoyment are _ you  _ gonna get at a gay strip club?” Dean crossed his arms over his chest and tried to look intimidating. 

“It’s a gay  _ and  _ lesbian club, but a couple nights a month they do a shared night with dudes and chicas. C’mon, Dean I read about this place and it’s supposed to be amazing.”

Dean stared up at the flickering neon sign through the rainy windows. “This is stupid.” His eyes swept over the cartoony, big busted demon and the over muscled angel. 

“C’mon!” Charlie got out of the car and darted for the building. Dean sighed and followed her. 

Inside, it was dimly lit. A beautiful woman with long red hair, dressed in a white angel costume, met them at the door. “Welcome to Heaven ‘N’ Hell,” she smiled. “The show will start in about twenty minutes. Find a seat and get comfy. It’s co-ed night, so I’m sure you’ll both find something pretty to look at.” She winked at Charlie and handed her a card. “I’m Anna. Let me know if I can help you with anything.”

“Oh, I will,” Charlie grinned. “I’m sure there’s a lot you could help me with.”

“C’mon, Chuckles,” Dean rolled his eyes and tugged her into the club, ignoring Anna’s little wave. 

“Dude. Don’t cock block me!” Charlie protested. 

“Please. She probably says that to all the girls.”

“I doubt ‘all the girls’ get her cell,” Charlie told him triumphantly, showing him Anna’s number on the other side of the business card. 

“Really?” Dean asked incredulously. 

“What? I can’t turn this off!”

Rolling his eyes again, he dragged Charlie to a table closest to the left hand stage. It was lit with blue lights, while the other side was lit with red, clearly delineating which side was “heaven” and which side was “hell”. Dean decided he’d rather be on the side of the angels. 

Twenty minutes later, he and Charlie had already done a few shots. Dean was feeling warm and content and ready to watch some dancers. The house lights went down and music started thumping. 

“Welcome to Heaven ‘N’ Hell’s big co-ed night! I’m the Archangel Gabriel and I’m your MC for the evening!” A short man in a gold speedo and huge golden wings stood on the runway in between the two stages, lit with warm yellow light. The crowd welcomed him enthusiastically. “To get our show off to a rip roaring start, please welcome Ruby, the Demon Mistress from Hell, and her slave, Fallen Angel Anna!” 

Anna stepped out onto the blue lit stage in sky high white heels and a white bustier, smiling down at Charlie as she caught her eyes. 

“Hello, Nurse!” Charlie exclaimed, immediately getting to her feet to stuff a single in Anna’s g-string. 

The demon on the other stage, Ruby, caught sight of this and spun on a six inch stiletto boot, storming across the runway from the Hell stage to the Heaven stage. She came up right behind Anna and wrapped her fingers in red hair, pulling Anna damn near off her feet. 

“Oh no, folks, looks like our little demon is a little angry with her angel!” Gabriel intoned. 

Dean rolled his eyes and took another shot as Anna scurried away from Ruby’s grasp, swinging around the pole. Over the sounds of Steven Tyler wailing  _ Crazy _ , the snap of Ruby’s crop hitting the stage made Anna startle - or at least pretend to. They spent the rest of the song dashing between the two stages, Anna pretending to run from Ruby. The song ended with Anna on her knees, Ruby’s heel in her hands as she kissed it. 

“Oh my god!” Charlie yelled, throwing back a shot. “I want to be the Charlie in that sandwich!”

Dean laughed. “Was pretty hot,” he grinned, throwing back a shot of his own. 

The next act was advertised as “brothers” who didn’t look a damn thing alike, but it was entertaining watching Lucifer and Michael duel it out on stage, each one determined to be the best at pole dancing. _ I Believe in a Thing Called Love _ blasted out of the speakers, and both dancers moved perfectly with the beat. 

“Michael won!” Dean insisted loudly. 

“Yeah! Yeah, he did, here,” Charlie handed Dean a ten. “Go show your appreciation.”

More than drunk enough to think Charlie’s suggestion a good one, Dean stumbled up to the heaven side of the stage, holding the bill up. Michael took it with a big smile, blowing Dean a kiss. 

Over the next hour, he and Charlie got drunker and drunker, cheering loudly for their faves and offering up cash. Dean recognized Balthazar from the day Cas moved in. That should have been his first clue, but he was pretty drunk at that point.

Someone sent them a round of drinks on the house, Anna waving from the bar with a big grin. “I am so going to hit that,” Charlie said, determination in her voice. 

“You do that, babe,” Dean saluted her with a shot before dumping it down his throat. The scary looking red head currently on stage seemed to be taking some interest in him, but she was legitimately terrifying, so Dean avoided her eyes. 

“And next up,” Gabriel announced, “our little saucy minx from The Pit, the demon Meg!” A tiny little woman in all red sauntered out onto the stage, waving and grinning, blowing kisses at regulars.

“Hey, weird,” Dean said. “That’s Cas’s friend. She and that Balthazar dude helped him move in.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Meg’s been a bad, bad girl and attracted the attention of Heaven’s very own sheriff, captain of his garrison, the one, the only -” a dramatic pause as Dean took a sip of beer - “CASTIEL!” 

Spraying beer across the table as _ Too Funky _ starting blaring over the club’s speakers, Dean’s heart dropped into his feet. “Oh god, oh my god,” he whispered. 

Cas stalked out onto the stage, clad in shiny blue panties and white thigh high boots. He had a massive set of black wings attached to his back. Thick black eyeliner made his eyes even bluer and he was sparkly, covered in shit tons of glitter. 

“Oh fuck, he’s gorgeous,” Dean said, not caring who heard. 

Strutting down to the end of his stage, Cas squatted, hands on his knees, before standing back up and sticking his ass out while bending at the waist to grab the pole. He shimmied, then seemed to catch sight of Meg, his eyes narrowing. 

“Whoa, that’s sexy,” Charlie said, eyes watching as Cas rhythmically stomped in time with the music, heading to Meg’s side of the stage. The little demon watched him come, scurrying up the closest pole when he got close. 

He reached for her and Meg let herself fall into his arms and from that point forward, Dean felt like he was melting into his seat. The dance was clearly designed to demonstrate just how strong Cas really was as he lifted and pretended to throw Meg to the floor, all while balanced on six inch stiletto boots. 

“I’m dying,” he said, “I’m fucking dying.”

Charlie laughed and handed him a shot. “Hey, maybe you’ll get laid tonight, too!”

Meg grabbed Cas’s wing and spun him around, laughing as she dashed away, across the runway, stopping to bump and grind with Gabriel. She looked up and saw Cas coming. Meg slapped a hand over her face in mock surprise, shoved Gabriel in front of her to block Cas and dashed off to the other stage. 

“I’m going to die,” Dean informed Charlie again. “This is too much.” All Charlie did was laugh at him and by the end of the dance, it was Charlie shoving him in Cas’s direction, a handful of bills gripped in his sweaty hand. 

Cas dipped down to take them from Dean, showing no recognition at all - until he reached out and gently cupped Dean’s chin. “Thank you,” he mouthed, lips pink and glossy. He stood, tucking the bills into his straps holding his wings. Across the way, Meg was accepting money from a bunch of women as she wiggled her now utterly naked tits at them.

Dean looked back up at Cas for a moment, temporarily blinded by the stage lights. The blue glow lit Cas’s hair, making him look like a real angel. It was overwhelming. 

Then Cas ripped off the blue panties and tossed them to Dean. 

He wasn’t naked underneath, but he might as well been - that tiny blue lamé sack and elastic string left nothing to the imagination. 

The song ended, and Meg and Cas took their bows. Cas looked over at Dean as he left the stage, concern in his eyes. Dean couldn’t imagine why Cas looked concerned. It’s not like Dean was doing anything crazy. He was just standing there...clutching Cas’s ripped and sweaty panties to his chest. 

“Uh, dude? Come sit back down,” Charlie led him back to the table. “You ok?”

Dean looked down at the panties in his hand and smiled. “I’m really drunk. And Cas is really hot.”

“Haha, ok, cowboy. Ok.”

There were a few more big numbers, and Dean drank some more. He was feeling warm and squishy and content. Charlie ordered a huge plate of wings and some fries. So Dean ate. And drank. Probably entirely too much, in retrospect.  

“Ok kids, it’s time for a last big showdown between Heaven ‘N’ Hell because that’s what we do. Put your hands together for the demons!” 

Dean cheered loudly with the crowd at the black and red attired Demons strutted out onto the stage. 

“And straight from Heaven to clean up this mess, our very own Angels!” The angels reappeared and Dean found Cas immediately. He still wore the black wings but had traded the panties for white hot pants and gold flat heeled boots. His eyes found Dean’s and he winked. 

“Holy shit, it’s hot in here,” Dean complained. 

“It’s not the temperature that’s hot,” Charlie laughed. 

George Michael’s  _ Freedom _ blasted throughout the club and Dean died a little inside. “Why do they use so much George Michael?” he whined. This was forever going to ruin this song for him. From now on, whenever he heard it, he’d see this in his mind - Cas, dangling from the pole, sexily writhing in those tiny, tiny pants. And just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, the dancers left the stage and headed into the audience. 

The scary redhead from earlier, wearing a black bustier and holding a cat of nine tails, sauntered over and dropped into Dean’s lap. “Oh, hello there lover. I've loved this body since the moment I first saw it. You make a girl have all kinds of nasty ideas,” she told him, dragging a red tipped nail down his cheek. 

* * *

 

From across the room, Cas caught sight of Abaddon heading right for Dean and his blood boiled. The shots he’d done when he realized Dean was in the audience were definitely affecting him and he saw red. And it wasn’t just Abaddon’s hair. 

“Hey -” the guy who’s lap he’d been sitting in protested when Cas stood abruptly, stalking across the room towards Abaddon - and Dean. He paused a moment to wonder what it must look like, because he could feel the ire in his face.

“Whoa,” Charlie said as he passed. Anna, seated in Charlie’s lap, looked surprised as she watched Cas.

“Mine, Abaddon,” he growled, dropping a firm hand on her shoulder. 

“Oh, I don’t know, Cas,” she purred. “I found him first.”

Dean looked up at him, eyes wide. “She just sat on me!” he protested. “It’s not my fault!”

“Would you like her to leave?”

Dean nodded. 

“Be gone, Demon!” Cas demanded, probably louder than necessary. 

Abaddon - Josie - looked up at him with surprise. “Well, who am I to tangle with Heaven’s best?” she asked, clear confusion in her voice. “I’ll just go find someone else to possess,” she said, standing up. 

Josie left, but Cas didn’t spare a thought for her. He was more than a little drunk and it seemed like a perfectly acceptable idea to take her place in Dean’s lap. “Hello, Dean.” 

“Uh, hi Cas,” Dean said. 

“Are you having fun?” Cas asked, reaching over Dean to grab his beer. He took a long drag, finishing off the bottle. “It’s hot in here, and you’re so sweaty. I’m probably not helping with that, because I’m sweaty too. Did you enjoy the show?” He finally looked back at Dean. 

His friend was definitely sweating, eyes big and wide. 

“It was good.” 

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, Cas, just fine. Totally fine.”

“He has a big fat crush on you and you’re practically naked in his lap,” Charlie supplied helpfully. 

Dean turned bright red. “Goddammit, Charlie!”

“Cas, we have to finish the number,” Anna pulled at his arm and he went, but not before leaning down and giving Dean the biggest, wettest kiss on his gorgeous plump lips. 

“See you in a bit,” he grinned, making sure to shimmy his ass as he followed Anna back up onto the stage. 

Gabriel was in fine form as he called out each of their names again, each dancer strutting to the end of their respective stage to take a bow. As Cas bent at the waist for his, he caught sight of Dean, sitting there looking dazed, fingers brushing over his own lips. 

Cas winked and strutted off the stage. 

* * *

 

“Dude what the actual fuck? We don’t kiss the customers!” Meg stared at Cas. “You’re gonna lose your job!”

“Please. That was Dean. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal and Josie’s kinda pissed. What the hell got into you, Clarence?”

“It’s  _ not _ a big deal and -” 

Gabriel walked in, his face a little on the stormy side. “We’re gonna have to talk but you got a private dance in room two. Go make someone happy.”

“Yeah. Let me change real quick.” He looked at Meg. “Help me with the wings?”

“No. Go do your dumb lap dance with them on.” She spun on her heel and stormed off. 

“Don’t look at me.” Gabe shrugged. “And don’t keep your customer waiting.”

Sighing, Cas rolled his eyes. He grabbed a clean pair of blue sequined hot pants from his dressing area and stripped off the white ones. The gold boots were set aside for a fantastic pair of silver knee high gladiator sandals he’d just gotten. Reapplication of his lip gloss and eyeliner, not to mention a little more silver glitter on his cheeks, and Cas was ready to go. 

He let himself into room two, almost stumbling back out when he saw who was waiting for him. “Dean,” he breathed. 

“Sorry, it was Charlie’s idea and she paid and I feel - I mean, I couldn’t tell her no!” Dean fidgeted on the deep purple couch, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else than the overly dramatic purple-draped lap dance room. 

“It’s ok. We can sit and talk if you’d like. Or,” Cas crossed the room to the iPod. “You can relax and let me dance for you,” he said. “I’d like to dance for you.” He chanced a glance back at Dean. “Is that ok?”  _ Please say yes.  _

“Uh - yeah, ok. Ok.” Dean swallowed audibly. 

Cas smiled when he found the song he wanted. “Just relax,” he soothed as he hit play. “Everything’s going to be fine.” 

He turned just in time to see Dean’s face as he realized what song was playing. Cheeks flushed impossibly redder as Dean stared down at the floor. He wondered if Dean knew how fucking delectable he looked. 

_ “That's all I wanted. Something special, something sacred, in your eyes. For just one moment, to be bold and naked at your side.” _

Cas bent at the waist, sliding his hands down his thighs. He straightened back up slowly, running a hand up his chest and teasing a nipple. His other hand trailed over the bulge in his pants. There was no use pretending he wasn’t as painfully turned on as he believed Dean to be. 

_ “Sometimes I think that you never understand me. Maybe this time is forever. Say it can be, whoa.” _

He dropped carefully to his knees, crawling slowly across the floor towards Dean. 

_ “That's all you wanted. Something special, someone sacred, in your life. Just for one moment, to be warm and naked at my side.” _

Cas slid his hands up Dean’s jeans, aware of how the man trembled under his touch. His face followed the trail his hands made, just inches from touching Dean. 

_ “Sometimes I think that you never understand me. But something tells me together, we'd be happy, oh, oh.” _

As the music swelled into the chorus, Cas settled into Dean’s lap, holding onto his shoulders and letting himself fall backwards, back arched high over the floor. He smiled at Dean’s sharp intake of breath, sitting back up and bringing his face inches from Dean’s. 

_ “I will be your father figure. Put your tiny hand in mine.I will be your preacher teacher. Anything you have in mind.” _

He pushed up, his feet on the ground, and slid his hands into Dean’s hair, forcing him to look up. Cas swayed his hips and lifted one leg high over Dean’s head, turning so that his back was facing Dean. 

_ “I will be your father figure. I have had enough of crime. I will be the one who loves you _

_ 'Til the end of time.” _

He settled into Dean’s lap, smiling at the hardness that greeted him and the way Dean tried to squirm away. 

“Your wings are so soft,” Dean murmured. “Can I touch them?”

“Sure.” He could feel the wings moving slightly as Dean dragged his fingers through them. A hand settled on his hip. 

“Uh, uh, uh,” he chided. He stood and turned back around, sitting in Dean’s lap once again. “No touching the dancers.”

“Cas,” Dean whined. 

[](https://imgur.com/aiQey6k)

“What, baby?” Cas slid a hand into Dean’s hair as he rolled his hips into Dean’s. “Is this too much for you? Are you not having fun?” He leaned in, letting his lips brush over Dean’s ear. “I could make it a lot more fun,” he whispered. 

Dean made a choked off sound, his hips jerking. “Fuck. Oh fuck, fuck, let me up, Cas. Let me up.”

“What’s wrong?” Cas frowned. 

“Just please let me up, ok? Please.” Dean’s eyes were wide and wet. He looked like he was about to start crying. 

“Dean, I’m sorry. I was just trying to make you feel good. You’ve been so tense all week and I thought maybe we could blow off a little steam -”

“Yeah. Steam blown off. Really. Please let me up, this is embarrassing enough.” 

Cas stood, bewildered - until he noticed the damp spot on Dean’s jeans. “Oh,” he said. “Shit.”

“Yeah. And I don’t exactly have spare clothes, so let me go clean up and at least attempt to salvage some of my pride. And why the fuck is this damn club so obsessed with George Michael?” he yelled as he stormed out of the room. 

“Shit,” Cas said. “Shit.” He shut the music off and went back to the dressing room. Grateful no one else appeared to be around, he wiggled out of his wings carefully, hanging them up on the rack and covering them with the sheet. He took the fastest shower ever and dashed out into the club in his street clothes, but Dean was nowhere to be found. 

Charlie, however, was holding court with Anna on her lap and Ruby and Meg dancing for her. “Three lapdances? That girl must be rich,” Balthazar commented. 

“Have you seen the guy she came in with?”

“You mean your adorable roommate? Gone, five minutes ago. I fetched the cab for him,” Balth said proudly. “Although I did offer a different sort of ride. He wasn’t interested. What did you do to him, Cassie?”

“Nothing. I have to go. Apologize to Gabe and Josie for me?” 

“Of course, darling.” 

Cas dug his keys out of his pocket, heading to the Prius. He remembered how much he’d had to drink and flagged down a cab instead, giving them Dean’s address. Leaning back in the seat, he calculated the mileage from Kansas City to Overland Park and groaned when he realized where most of the night's tips were going to go, but it was worth it. He had to get to Dean. 

* * *

 

The house was dark when he let himself in. “Dean?” he called softly, not even sure if he’d beat him home. The downstairs was utterly dark. The upstairs proved to be empty as well. Cas tried Dean’s cell but it went straight to voicemail. 

Worried, he headed back downstairs for some water. Cas didn’t turn on the lights as he walked into the kitchen, snagging a bottle of water out of the fridge. 

“Just couldn’t leave it, could you?” Dean asked. 

Cas jumped straight in the air, dropping his water bottle. Thankfully, it fell into the sink. He switched the light on over the sink and turned. 

Dean sat in a chair at the table, an open bottle of whiskey in front of him, clearly drunk. His eyes were raw and bloodshot, and Cas hated to think he might’ve been crying. 

“I didn’t think you were home yet.”

“Would’ve been easier for ya, huh? Then you could have just gone to bed and not had to worry about me, right? You seem to worry about me a lot.” Dean took a long drink out of the whiskey bottle, his head tilting backwards to showcase his gorgeous long neck. 

“I didn’t mean - I’m sorry. If I overstepped tonight, I’m sorry.”

Dean set the bottle back on the table and stood, stalking towards Cas who felt like cornered prey. “Never said I didn’t like it. I like you. I think that’s obvious. And under different circumstances, I’d probably let you bend me right over this table and fuck me until I can’t remember my own name.” He ran a finger down Cas’s chest. “You’re so fucking sexy. And I’ve jerked off so many times since you moved in, thinking about you and all the things I’d let you do to me, and fuck yeah, I’d love it. I’d love all of it.” 

“Dean,” Cas breathed. “I’d give you all of it, I swear I would.”

“Yeah, I know. I know you would.” He leaned in and kissed Cas’s cheek. 

It was sweet, and Cas had to ball his hands into fists to keep from grabbing Dean and turning that little peck into something a lot dirtier. 

“Let me show you,” he whispered instead. “Take you upstairs and show you how good I can make it for you.”

Dean’s lips slid from Cas’s cheek to press against the skin of his neck and Cas was finding it incredibly difficult to maintain his control. 

“I’d love to. But I can’t. I’m sorry.” Dean pulled away. “I’m not what you want, Cas. Because I want more than that. I want - I want a life with someone,” Dean said sadly. “But no one wants a life with me.”

“No, I -”

“It’s ok. I’m used to it.” He squeezed Cas’s hand. “Thanks for tonight,” he murmured. “I had a lot of fun.” 

And then he was gone, up the stairs, leaving Cas to wonder what the hell had just happened.


	5. For Everything That Makes You Weak

“Are you alright?” Mary asked, settling beside Dean on the back stoop. “You’ve been so quiet.”

“That’s ‘cause Sammy never shuts up,” Dean said, taking a drag from his beer. 

“How’s Cas? I’m sorry he couldn’t join us today.”

“Cas is fine,” Dean muttered, staring down at the grass. “I uh - I kinda left without him this morning, so I guess that’s my fault he isn’t here.”

Mary frowned, a little furrow forming between her brows. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yup. Did I tell you Charlie popped up yesterday?”

“Really? How long has it been since you saw her?”

“Like eighteen years. She just showed up on my doorstep Friday night.”

“Well that’s good, right?”

Dean didn’t get a chance to answer. Jess and Sam joined them on the porch, followed a moment later by Rufus. Dean faded out of the conversation that quickly turned into a discussion of Sam and Jess’s upcoming wedding. 

Sitting on the stoop while the rest of his family sat on the patio chairs, Dean couldn’t help the little smile at Sam’s animated expressions as he and Jess described the cake tasting and all the weird flavors the baker had tried to push on them. His little brother was so completely happy, holding Jess’s hand while she smiled at him. 

_ I will never have anything like that _ , Dean thought, and he was suddenly unspeakably sad. He stared down at his feet, miserable and feeling so completely alone, even in the midst of his family. He could smile in all the right places, laugh at the right time, put up the perfect front, but Dean’s world was dark and lonely and there was nothing that could change that. 

Maybe it was time he got used to it.

A short time later, Sam and Jess left for Topeka and Dean found himself alone on the porch again. 

“Alright. What’s going on?” Rufus handed him a fresh beer before sitting next to him. “I ain’t your mom, and I’m not buying the I’m ok bullshit. What’s the deal kid?”

“Nothing. I’m fine, Dad.”

“No, you ain't. You’re trying, but I can see right through you, kiddo. What’s up?”

Dean rolled his eyes and took a drag from the bottle. “It’s getting late,” he muttered. “I should go.”

“It’s not that late. C’mon, tell your old man what’s going on.”

“It’s stupid,” Dean muttered, picking at the label on his bottle. 

“I doubt that. Isn’t hard to see you haven’t been yourself lately. Mom and I worry about you, y’know?” Rufus slung an arm around his shoulders. “You know there isn’t anything you could tell us that would make us love you any less, right? You’re our boy, no matter what.” 

Dean’s eyes burned and he blinked back a rush of tears. “I know,” he said, voice shaky and small. 

“Here,” Mary said, stepping onto the porch and settling on Dean’s other side. She handed him a fresh beer. “Can we please talk about something other than weddings? I love your brother, and I love Jess to pieces, but flowers and cake and I’m tuning out.” 

“I feel you,” Dean grinned, tapping his bottle against his mom’s. “They’re both so gross and happy, too. It’s nauseating. And no way would I have sunflowers at my wedding. That is so last year.”

All three of them chuckled, and Dean relaxed a little more. They talked about mundane things as they watched the sun go down, the last dregs of light kissing the petals of Rufus’s prized roses. 

“Almost don’t want to go home. It’s so peaceful,” Dean said wistfully. “And I definitely don’t want to go back to work tomorrow.”

“Everything ok?”

“Not really,” Dean admitted. “I took a few days off when Sam moved out and they’re really pissed about it. I’m not really sure how to get back in Adler’s and Crowley’s good graces.” Dean took a deep breath. “To be honest, I’m not sure I care.”

“What do you mean?” Mary asked.

“I hate my job,” Dean confessed, the first time he’d said those words to his parents. “I hate everything about it. I hate the hours and the clients, I hate my bosses, I hate all of it.”

“Then quit,” Rufus said. “Get out while the gettin’s good.”

“Isn’t that simple, Dad. I owe a lot on the cars, the house, the boat.”

“Sell all of it. Get rid of it and move back in with us if you have to,” Mary said. “Or better yet, go back to MIT and get the degree you really wanted.”

“Mom -” 

“She’s right. You know she is. Your mama is never wrong.” 

“I can’t.”

“You can,” Rufus insisted. 

Dean stood and crossed the lawn to the big oak. He stared up into the branches, smiling at the frayed remnant of rope that used to hold the tire swing. Sam and him had spent many hours on that thing as children, with their next door neighbor, Jo. 

God, life had been so much easier then. Mudpies, forts, G.I. Joes and Transformers, Hot Wheels running paths in the dirt, popsicles and Mary’s Rice Krispie treats full of peanut m&m’s, sticky fingers and warm baths, tucked into bed at night by his parents, growing up in a house full of love. 

Of course, there’d also been his failed attempt at Little League, which led to finding joy in ballet lessons - something that had almost made John Winchester lose his mind. 

Dean frowned. He didn’t want to think about his father. 

“Please talk to me,” Mary murmured, gentle hand sliding down his back. “It’s been nearly twenty years, and we still don’t know what happened to you out there. But we know it was bad. MIT was your dream and something must’ve happened. Please tell us.”

“You’ll never look at me the same again. I know I must’ve - I must've done something, must’ve asked for it somehow.” Dean squeezed his eyes shut against the burn of tears. “I knew no one would’ve believed me so I left. I ran like a damn coward.” The first tear slipped down his cheek and he swiped at his face, irritated that he couldn’t seem to hold back. 

Rufus’s big hand joined Mary’s on his back. “Whatever it is, I’m willing to bet it wasn’t your fault. Just tell us, kiddo. I think you’ll feel better.” 

Dean turned and studied their faces, finding nothing but kindness, love, and caring. “Ok,” he sighed. “I guess I need to let it go.” He dropped onto the picnic table bench. “So uh - and just let me get this out, please. If you stop me, I might not be able to start again.”

Both nodded. 

“So uh - sophomore year, my advisor was Professor White - Alastair White. And he uh - took a lot of interest in me. He was also my physics and calculus professor, so I saw him a lot. He offered to help me on the side and I didn’t - I didn’t see it for what it was. Towards the end of the year - and I know I didn’t tell you guys this - he offered to let me stay with him for the summer so I could take some advanced courses, maybe get my undergrad studies done fast and move onto grad school. So, yeah. Sounded good and I agreed.” Dean stared down at his shoes and swallowed. “But uh, one night after class it became pretty clear why he wanted me to stay for the summer. So I freaked out and bailed.”

Mary gasped. “Oh, Dean -”

“No, he didn’t - he didn’t do  _ that _ . But he did -” Dean’s face burned with shame. “He put his hands on me,” he whispered. “Cornered me in his office and shoved me against the wall. I didn’t know what to do. He was basically my mentor and I just - I couldn’t see it for what it was.” Dean swallowed. “I trusted him. And I’m standing there in his office and he - he put his hand down the front of my pants and kissed me. I asked him to stop, and he didn’t and I - I finally shoved him off of me. He told me if he didn’t get what he wanted he’d tell the Dean of Students I’d come on to him, offered to trade sex for good grades. No one would’ve believed me.”

Rufus and Mary were both utterly silent. Dean was terrified, afraid to look up and see the looks of disgust on his parents’ faces. 

“Mary,” Rufus said. “GPS how long it’ll take me to get to Cambridge.”

“Alright. I’ll help you hide the body. I’m sure Bobby’ll help, too.”

Whipping his head up, Dean stared at his parents in shock. 

“Pfft, Mary, I’ve been a cop twenty-five years, you think I can’t make it look like an accident?”

They continued discussing the logistics of getting rid of Professor White and Dean couldn’t help it. He burst into hysterical laughter. They were so casual about the whole thing, like it was something they did everyday. He just couldn’t help it. And the love pouring out of them - it wasn’t long before the laughter turned to sobs, and Mary was right there, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. 

“It wasn’t your fault, sweetie. You’ve carried this so long, alone. No more. Let it go. It wasn’t your fault.”

Rufus sat beside them, throwing an arm around Dean’s shoulder. “Did you think we wouldn’t believe you?” He asked gently. “Of course we believe you.” Rufus harrumphed. “I was only half kidding ‘bout making him disappear.”

Dean chuckled again. He rubbed at his still streaming eyes. “I dunno. I just thought - people would want to know what I did.”

“What you did?” Mary asked, confused. 

“Yeah. What I did. Seems like people always think you asked for it. Maybe I wore the wrong clothes, said the wrong thing. Maybe he really thought I was offering. I’ve thought about every interaction we had and I wonder - did I give him the wrong idea? Did I make him think I was willing?”

“Dean.” Mary’s voice was steel, and Dean looked up, meeting her eyes. “You didn’t ask for it. No one ever asks to be sexually assaulted. This is his problem, not yours. It is not your fault that man couldn’t control himself. You didn’t do anything wrong, understand? There is no way in hell you asked for that to happen. No matter what.”

Sniffling, Dean bit his bottom lip and nodded. 

“Look, boy. I’ve been a cop for a long, long time. And I’ve had to take the statements of assault victims. None of them asked for it. You didn’t ask for it.”

“Yeah, but John would say -”

“Oh fuck John Winchester,” Mary growled. “No one fucking cares what he thinks. I don’t know how he became such a nasty, bitter asshole, but what he thinks of you shouldn’t count for anything in how you think of yourself. You are a better man than him. You will always be a better man than him. He’s a bigoted piece of crap.”

Dean nodded again, letting his body relax in his mom’s arm. He was suddenly so incredibly tired. “I love you guys,” he murmured. 

“And we love you, too,” Mary assured him. “More than you’ll ever know.”

For a moment, the world stopped and Dean forgot everything he was worried about. He let his mom hold him and reassure him of her unconditional love while Rufus sat near by, a hand resting on Dean’s shoulder. It was peaceful and comforting, and Dean felt the weight he’d carried for almost two decades melt away in the warm spring sunshine. 

* * *

 

Cas was sitting at the kitchen table with his laptop and books when Dean let himself in. He looked up, feeling his shoulders tense. After what had happened the night before, he felt rather lost, unsure of how to approach Dean. Dean saw him sitting there and smiled tentatively. 

“Hey,” he said. “I uh - stopped and got the stuff to make spinach lasagna. Managed to find vegan ricotta and mozzarella. Vegan is expensive, dude.”

“Yeah, but it’s worth it.”

Dean nodded and worked at putting away groceries. “Studying?”

“For Sam’s final. I think I’ll be ok, but I’d like to graduate with the highest grades I can manage.”

“I get that.” Dean busied himself with pulling out pans. “Uh, do you even want dinner? I mean - I ate at my mom and dad’s, but I’m kinda hungry, plus I need lunch for tomorrow.”

“I’ve been studying all day and didn’t eat much. Frankly, I’d love a hot meal.”

“Not sure I’ll make anything as good as you do, and I’m not sure how to make a binder for the cheese and spinach without using eggs.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. And there’s egg replacer in the cabinet,” Cas pointed in the general direction of the pantry where he kept his dry goods, eyes already back on his work. 

Dean bustled around, chopping and stirring while Cas read. “I’m sorry I bailed without you this morning. I wasn’t thinking. I dunno.”

“I was disappointed.” Cas sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Dean, we should talk about what you said last -”

“No.”

“But -”

Dean turned from the counter, a large bunch of spinach in his hands. “Please don’t make me,” he begged softly. “I’m not ready for a relationship. I might never be. And I don’t want to talk about last night, ok? Just let it go.” Turning back to the counter, he set the spinach down and grabbed the egg replacer. “How do you use this egg stuff?” Dean asked, confusion in his voice. 

Clearly, that conversation was going to have to wait. Cas looked at Dean, smiling at the pink apron he’d thrown on over his clothes. “I’ll show you. I need a break from genocide anyway.” He slid a bookmark into his book and closed it, shut the laptop, and stacked everything on the table. 

Dean made a face. “That’s what you’re studying? That’s what Sam teaches? Yikes. I knew he was unhealthily obsessed with serial killers but damn.” 

Cas chuckled and reached for the bag of egg replacer while Dean worked on getting the noodles in boiling water. “I love history. All parts of history.”

“I love engineering,” Dean muttered, grabbing a knife to chop the spinach. “But I’m doing insurance. Fuck me.”

“You could always go back to engineering. If I can go back to school, you could too.”

“Yeah, but uh -” Dean paused. “I dunno. There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“So tell me. Tell me everything about you.”

Hands stopped chopping spinach. “You uh, I think you’re probably more interesting,” Dean said. “Navy pilot and all. I’m just a dude.”

“A dude with a remarkable talent for drawing at least.” Cas watched Dean’s face for signs of discomfort. “I like you a lot, and I actually do want to know everything about you.”

“I dunno. I think I’m kinda boring. Besides, hasn’t Sam told you everything already?”

“He’s told me some things.” Cas mixed the egg replacer with the vegan ricotta and handed it to Dean. “I know about MIT,” he admitted.

“Yeah. I figured. The whole ‘my brother the wasted genius’ party line? Fuckin’ Sam.” Dean yanked the pot of noodles off the stove, yelping when some of the boiling water splashed on his hand. “Fuck!” he yelled, dropping the pot into the sink. “Ow, goddammit!” 

“Let me see,” Cas ordered, reaching for Dean’s hand. Just like that time Dean got soap in his eyes, he instantly stilled at Cas’s words, holding his hand out obediently. Although, Cas thought, this wasn’t quite the time to explore why Dean followed his orders. Dean’s hand was blotchy and red where the water had splashed on it. “It’s going to hurt but I don’t think it’s serious. Sit,” he gestured to a chair and Dean, unsurprisingly, sat.

“I’ll get you some ice,” Cas told him, fetching a small plastic bag from the cabinet. He quickly filled it with ice and wrapped the whole thing in a towel. “Hold this here,” Cas said, putting the ice over Dean’s burn, “and I’ll finish the lasagna.”

Dean nodded but didn’t say anything. Cas could feel his eyes on him as he turned back to the counter and finished what Dean started, draining the long noodles. Dean stayed quiet as Cas assembled the lasagna and covered it with foil, sliding it into the oven. He quickly cleaned up. 

“Let me check,” he said, sitting beside Dean and reaching for his hand again. The redness had already reduced significantly. “See? No harm done. I think it startled you more than anything.”

“Did Sam tell you why I left MIT?” Dean asked. 

Cas blinked. “He said he didn’t know. He had mentioned trying to get in touch with Charlie.”

“Yeah, Charlie told me that. But she’d been considering getting in touch with me anyway.” Dean sighed. “I left MIT because a professor put the moves on me. I freaked and ran away. And I haven’t told anyone that in the past eighteen years until the other night when I finally told Charlie. Today, I told my parents. It’s getting easier with every person I tell.”

“Were you -”

“Raped? No. He just uh - put his hands where they didn’t belong. But I got scared and ran. I gave up my dream for that bastard.” Dean rubbed his hands together, wincing slightly at the pain. “I just - I kinda hate my life.”

“Then change it.” 

“It’s not that simple. I’m in debt up to my eyeballs on this place and my stupid cars. I don’t - I can’t quit.”

“Sure you can,” Cas assured him. “We put this place on the market. Sell the boat, sell the BMW and the ‘Vette. Quit. Move back to Cambridge and go back to school. I’ll come with you.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow. “You’d do that for me?”

“You told me before you don’t like being alone. I have a pension from the Navy. I don’t even really need to work, and I want to write. I can do that anywhere. So yes, I’d come with you.”

Sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth, Dean seemed to be at a loss for words. He stood, going to the fridge and pulling out a beer, but he didn’t open it. He stood against the counter, staring at the bottle and turning it over in his hand. 

Cas waited, feeling like Dean was on the precipice of a big decision. 

“I had a serious relationship not that long ago. Couple of years maybe. I was crazy about him. Aaron. I asked him to move in, making it clear that I was thinking about marriage. He uh - he dumped me. Came over and got his stuff and left. Told me I was already married to work. Before that it was Cassie. Gorgeous, smart, I was nuts over her. She left me because I refused to stand up to John - uh, my bio-dad, John Winchester. Before that was Lisa, and before that was Nick back at school. Guess we broke up when I ran away. I dunno. Point is, I suck at relationships. I want one, don’t get me wrong.” He looked up then, finding Cas’s eyes. “And I really like you. You cook for me, you kinda look after me. I know you care. I know you like me. But I’m scared I’ll fall into something with you and you’ll fucking leave me and I’ll be...” Dean trailed off and blinked hard. “I uh. I don’t know,” he said helplessly. 

“Failed relationships in the past don’t mean that something between us would fail. Maybe those other people didn’t deserve you.”

Dean chuckled bitterly. 

“I hate that you view yourself like this,” Cas said. 

“Like what?”

Standing, Cas crossed the room to where Dean stood, watching as he squirmed. “I hate that you see yourself as worthless.” He leaned forward, placing a soft, sweet kiss on Dean’s cheek. “You’re worth everything. And I do care about you. I want to have something with you, Dean. You’re important to me. I wish you could see that.”

Dean’s eyes widened and he looked like he had something to say, but of course the oven timer chose that moment to ding, signaling that dinner was ready. 

“Just throw that in the fridge,” Dean said, using the distraction to squirm away from Cas. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

And just like that, he was gone, up the stairs and locked in his room. 

Sighing heavily, Cas put on oven mitts and pulled the lasagna from the oven. He left it to cool on a hot plate on the counter, returning to his studies. A half an hour later, Cas gave up studying for a lost cause, since he couldn’t focus on anything but Dean. He portioned a piece of the lasagna into a container for Dean’s lunch, wrapped the baking dish in foil and put everything in the fridge. 

Upstairs, he considered knocking on Dean’s door but went into his own room instead. It took him a long time to settle down. 


	6. Trade a Smile With Someone Who's Blue

Monday morning found Dean in a long and boring sales meeting, doing everything he could not to fall asleep. Fuck, he hated everything about his job. 

Going home was a huge relief. Stripping out of his suit felt like heaven, and parking himself on the couch in ratty sweats and a worn tee was the best thing ever. He switched on Project Runway and zoned out. 

Dean was half asleep when Cas let himself in, arms full of groceries. “I’m done! No more finals!” 

“Congrats!” Dean said. “We should celebrate.” He hopped off the couch and followed Cas to the kitchen. 

“Oh, we are. Burgers and fries and beer tonight, my friend.”

“Black bean burgers?”

“No.” Cas reached into the bag and pulled out a massive tray of actual ground beef. “It’s going to make me fucking sick but I don’t care. I want a real, nasty, greasy burger.”

“Oh hell yeah,” Dean enthused. “I’ll get the grill going. Wanna eat outside? I could be convinced to build a fire in the pit.”

“That sounds great. I’ve got a cold case of Kingdom in the car, too.” Cas rummaged in the bag. “And a pie,” he smiled, holding up an attractive pecan pie. 

“Fuck. Yes. Ok, I’ll get the pyro going, you get this going.” 

“Sounds good. I’ll warn you - you’ve been eating vegan for better than a month. This is going to have uh - side effects.”

“We have more than one bathroom.”

Cas threw his head back and laughed heartily, the sound warming Dean to the tips of his toes. “Go start the grill, I’ll get this going. How do you feel about onions in the meat and stuffing the patties with cheddar?”

“I am 100% on board.”

“Excellent.” 

Dean all but bounced out to the deck, happily pulling the cover off his grill. He got it going, then set to work building a fire in the pit. By the time Cas came out with the burgers, the fire was roaring and the grill was ready to go. 

“I also bought the stuff to make s’mores earlier. And I wanted to invite you to graduation. I invited my brother but we don’t really talk, and I’d like to have someone there.”

“Of course I’ll come,” Dean assured him, opening the grill lid. “Holy crap those look good,” he said, checking out the burgers. He could see the onions in the meat and they all looked well seasoned. “How does someone that makes a burger this attractive become a vegan?”

“Heart disease runs in my family. I’m trying to live longer than my father,” Cas said, setting the first patty on the grill. It sizzled enticingly. 

“Wow. I guess that makes sense.”

Cas finished putting the four patties on the grill. “I couldn't not make veggies,” Cas explained, laying some loaded skewers full of zucchini, summer squash, and mushrooms on the grill. “Back in a moment. Don’t let them burn!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Dean pulled the cover off his patio table while Cas was inside, grabbing a rag from the garage and wiping the chairs down. He got the chair cushions out of the garage too, grabbing a couple tiki torches as well. Everything was set up when Cas returned, his arms full of a loaded tray. 

“I have the beer and all the fixings. There’s another tray inside with plates and silverware on it. Grab it please?” 

“Sure.” Dean did as Cas asked and when he came back out, Cas was just taking the burgers and veggies skewers off the grill. 

“The fries are baked sweet potatoes.”

“Love sweet potato fries,” Dean told him, pulling out a chair. He sat while Cas busied himself sliding a patty onto a bun. 

“Here,” he said, handing the plate to Dean. “I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I will. It looks amazing.” 

Cas smiled and sat, adding his own burger to his plate. Dean loaded his plate with a generous handful of fries, two veggie skewers, then topped his burger with more onion, lettuce, tomato, and whatever sauce Cas had made. 

“We need music!” he decided, hopping out of his chair to turn on the stereo system built into the deck. _ Lonely People  _ by America was on the radio, and Dean was humming along when he sat back down. 

“Mmm,” Cas groaned, mouth full of burger. 

“That good?” Dean asked, amused. 

“Mmmhmm,” Cas hummed dreamily.

Dean lifted his burger and took a big bite. The taste exploded across his tongue and he found himself letting out a moan. “Oh my god.”

“Mmm, told you. These make me very happy,” Cas said, taking another big bite. 

“Me too,” Dean agreed. 

They both ate entirely too much, then cleaned up together. Dean dug a few chaise lounges out of the garage and stationed them near the fire pit with a small table. Cas brought out the s’mores fixings and more beer. 

“I might be a little drunk,” he laughed, plopping onto one of the chaises. 

“You had all of four beers, dude.”

“Yeah, well when you don’t really drink at all, it doesn’t take much. And if I remember correctly, two bottles of saké did you in.” 

“Yeah, yeah.”

Cas took the large skewer Dean offered him and speared a marshmallow. The sun had disappeared behind Dean’s house and the firelight flickered in his eyes. “Marshmallows are wonderful,” he informed Dean, sticking his in the fire where it promptly ignited. “Dammit!” 

“Here, c’mon, give me that.” Dean took the skewer and blew out the fiery marshmallow, tossing it into the fire. He speared a fresh one. “Get your chocolate and graham crackers ready and I’ll make you a good one.” 

Cas did as told, watching as Dean carefully turned the marshmallow over the fire until it was a perfect, uniform golden brown. “That’s lovely.”

“Sure is,” Dean said, holding the skewer so Cas could slide the marshmallow off and onto his chocolate. 

“Thank you,” Cas said, smiling softly. 

“You’re welcome.” 

Dean made his own s’more, laughing as Cas licked chocolate and marshmallow off his fingers. “Enjoying that, huh?”

“Mmm.” 

The music changed to Van Morrison’s  _ Days Like This _ . “I love this song,” Cas said. “It’s so hopeful and positive.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty good.” Dean licked a smear of chocolate off his fingers. “Hopeful is always good.”

“Definitely.” Cas hummed along for a little bit, staring up at the slowly darkening sky. 

“So if you don’t mind me asking, how does a Navy pilot become a stripper?” Dean asked. 

“Gabriel.”

“Huh?”

Cas swallowed the remains of his s’more. “Gabriel, the head angel from my club? He owns the place - he’s also my cousin. Honestly, more like a brother. I don’t get along very well with my actual brother, Raphael. He’s far too much like my father. Gabriel, however, I get along great with. Probably because he’s the only other member of my family that’s not straight.” Cas swigged back some beer. “Another s’more please?”

“Sure,” Dean said, spearing a marshmallow to cook. 

“Anyway, knowing that I’d been a gymnast in high school and at the Academy, Gabe figured I’d make a killing as a stripper and that it would be a good way to pay for my second run through college. He was right. And I actually enjoy it. It’s challenging, and keeps me in shape.”

“Interesting,” Dean finished the marshmallow and slid it onto Cas’s waiting graham cracker.

“How’d you get into insurance?”

“Just kinda happened. After the whole MIT thing fell apart, I figured I could make some kind of career with a BA in business. Crowley was a guest speaker in one of my classes in my final semester. He liked the questions I asked and told me to come see him after I graduated. Started working there and it was kinda easy. Dunno. Just threw myself into it. I kept getting promoted, and here were are.” 

“But you hate it.”

“I do,” Dean admitted. 

They both fell silent, staring into the fire as the sun set.Time passed, both of them eating too many sticky, chocolatey s’mores. Dean drank several more beers, peeling the labels off the bottles.

[](https://imgur.com/WpSuTqz)

"It’s pretty here,” Cas murmured, leaning back to look up at the sky.

“Yeah. I mean, you can’t see that many stars as close as we are to the city, but it’s still pretty. Full moon and all.”

“Do you like living here?” 

“I don’t know. I think I’m used to living here.” Dean turned to see Cas staring at him. “What?”

“I just wonder if you’ve ever been happy.”

Ouch. Dean felt like he should be mad at such a question but he wasn’t. “I dunno. I used to think this was what I wanted. Now, I just don’t know anymore.”

“You’re not too old to change your life, y’know?”

“Is this more of the you should go back to Cambridge stuff?”

“No - maybe. I’m not trying to be pushy, I swear.”

 

Silence fell over them again. 

“I need to go to bed,” Dean said finally, getting out of his chaise. “It’s late and I have to work tomorrow.”

“Dean, I’m sorry -”

“Nothing to apologize for. Can you make sure the fire goes out?”

“Yes, but -”

“Thanks, Cas.” Dean walked swiftly to the door, letting himself in and heading upstairs. He shut himself in the safety of his room and sighed. 

When would he finally stop running away from things?

* * *

 

Without school, Cas was actually finding it difficult to find things to do. By Saturday, he’d cleaned and organized his room, alphabetized all his books, listed the textbooks for sale that he would no longer need, drew up an outline for a possible book, worked on a bunch of other little projects, and made several dinners for him and Dean. He also washed his car and mowed the lawn, even going as far as planting some pansies and petunias in boxes along the deck railings. 

Dean took in all of this with barely concealed amusement, and offered Cas some money to plant more flowers, since he apparently liked the way they looked. 

Saturday evening was hot enough to get in the pool, and he and Dean laid on floats drinking beer, talking about everything and nothing all at once. Led Zeppelin’s  _ Friends  _ drifted in the air as they soaked up the sun. 

“I thought Sam and Jess were coming over?”

“Fuck if I know. They probably lost track of time with wedding bullshit or they’re off banging somewhere.”

Cas chuckled. “There is that.”

“Was really nice of you to invite Mom and Dad to graduation. They’re excited.”

“Well, you’ll be there, and Sam’ll be there. Figured I might as well have the whole clan.”

Dean smiled at him, eyes covered with dark glasses. “You’re awesome, Cas.” The smile faded. “Wish I had it together as much as you do.”

Frowning, Cas shifted on the float. “I don’t ‘have it together’ as you say.”

“Really? Amazing career in the Navy, Sam’s told me your graduating with hella honors,  you’re hot as shit, you’re comfortable with who you are -”

“Am I?” Cas slid of the float and into the water. “You think I have it together? Maybe I do now, but I didn’t always. And the Navy? My father’s dream. I wasn’t really given a choice on that,” he said bitterly. “It was always made clear to me that I would join the military and have the career that my old man always wanted but didn’t have. And when I came out as gay? He disowned me. So yeah. Don’t for a minute think I haven’t had to work to get myself together. Don’t think I don’t have failed relationships in my past. I mean - all the people I considered friends while I was in the Navy pretty much wrote me off when I retired. I’m lonely. I’m unhappy. Maybe I’m better at covering it, I don’t know.”

“Cas - I’m sorry,” Dean said, his face stricken. He slid off his float to face Cas in the water, sliding his sunglasses up to the top of his head. “I wasn’t -”

“I know you didn’t mean any harm, Dean. I do. I just - don’t compare yourself and your success to where I am. I’m confident and comfortable with who I am now. I wasn’t always.” He stepped closer. “Dean, I don’t know how to make it clearer to you. I like you. I like you a lot. I have from the moment I met you, maybe before even. Sam told me about you. Showed me pictures. He loves you so deeply. You’re his hero and he cares so much about you. I felt like I knew you before I even met you.” 

Dean bit his bottom lip and stared down at the water. They were standing so close together, Cas could count the freckles on Dean’s nose. 

“I know I’ve said it before, but I wish you could see how much you matter to people...to me.”

“Cas -”

“Cannonball!” A wave of water swept over them as Sam catapulted all nine feet of himself into the pool. 

“What the fuck?!” Dean yelled as Sam resurfaced. 

“What? We said we were coming over!” Sam told him.

“You don’t knock?” 

“Since when do I need to knock? Not like I was interrupting anything.”

“Stop being a jerk,” Jess said from the poolside. She sat on the edge, dangling long legs into the water. “We brought corn on the cob and a big ass watermelon.”

“Did you get beer?” Dean asked, yelping as he was suddenly yanked under water. He resurfaced a moment later, spluttering and cursing at Sam, who was near doubled over laughing. 

Cas couldn't help himself. He started laughing too. 

“I hate all of you,” Dean sulked, pulling himself back up onto his float. 

“Yes, we brought beer,” Sam chuckled. “Lookin’ like a wet cat, bro.”

“Be nice,” Jess chided. “Ready for graduation?”

“Yes. I ironed my suit this morning. I’m ready to go.”

“Awesome.” Sam dragged himself onto Cas’s abandoned float. “I’m looking forward to a student free summer. Jess and I are gonna get married next weekend and then run away to Europe for two months.”

“Gonna be the worst trip ever. He’s gonna drag you to every boring historical monument in Europe, you know that, right?”

“Like I won’t drag him to every boring art museum,” Jess shot back.

“I’m going to go start dinner,” Cas said, pulling himself out of the pool. “Try not to kill each other.”

“I’ll help,” Jess offered. 

“I’d appreciate that.” 

“Are we eating vegan?” Sam called from his float. 

“Black bean burgers and hummus with veggies. Plus the corn and watermelon you brought. Sound good?”

“Works for me.”

“Anything you make is fine, Cas,” Dean said, a little smile on his face.

“Awwww,” Sam teased, causing Dean’s smile to fade and his cheeks to pink. 

“Shuddup,” he muttered, splashing Sam irritability. 

Cas dried himself off, aware that Dean was watching him. Deciding to be a little bit of an jerk, he exaggerated his drying off a little, turning around so Dean could enjoy his ass as he bent over to dry his calves. When he straightened again, he looked at Dean, not surprised to find him flushed. 

Cas winked. 

Dean’s face reddened all the more. 

* * *

 

Night fell, and the four of them piled into Dean’s spacious living room. “Ok, what are we watching?” Dean asked. “We’ve got Netflix, Hulu, Prime Video, my hella DVD collection, and regular old TV. Someone decide.”

“I think Cas should chose,” Jess said.

“That’s alright, someone else can.”

“No, it’s your big day tomorrow. Pick something,” Sam encouraged. 

“Whatever Dean wants is fine,” Cas said. 

Sam and Jess groaned in unison. 

“Just pick something, Cas. C’mon, we got tons of movies here.”

“Uh - this will sound stupid because it’s horrifically inaccurate, but I do love _ Top Gun _ .”

“No!” Sam yelled. “I hate that movie!” 

Dean smiled. “ _ Top Gun  _ it is.”

“I’ll go get popcorn. Be right back.” Cas left the living room and headed to the kitchen. He pulled a large container of kernels from the pantry, and a large pot from the cabinet. Ten minutes later, Dean joined him in the kitchen. 

“What’s taking so long?” He seemed surprised to find Cas at the stove. “Dude, I’ve got microwave stuff.”

“Microwave popcorn is not good for you. It doesn’t take much longer to make it on the stove.”

“Oh. What will you do for butter?”

“Season it right and you don’t need butter. I’m tossing it with salt and Chinese five spice. It’ll be delicious, trust me.”

Dean stepped closer, right next to Cas at the stove. “I do,” he said, looking down at the pan. “Trust you, I mean. I trust you.”

“I’m glad.”

They shared a brief smile, then Dean found a large bowl for the popcorn. He watched in fascination as Cas tossed it with seasoning. Dean grabbed a big handful and tossed it in his mouth. “Wow, that’s delicious! You were right!” 

“Told ya,” Cas said, pleased. They took the bowl and four beers and headed back to the living room. 

Jess had collected all the blankets in the living room, along with all of the throw pillows, and made herself a cozy nest on the floor. Sam’s large frame was taking up the longest side of the sectional couch, which left the loveseat sized end for Dean and Cas. Thinking nothing of it, Cas sat towards the middle, leaving a space between himself and the end of the couch for him and Dean. 

“Beer me!” Jess demanded, and Dean complied, carelessly tossing a beer at Sam’s head afterwards. 

“Damn, trying to kill me with beer, what the hell?”

“Oh shut up, you big baby, you caught it.”

“Alright, children. Shut up. Cas, turn on the movie already. And give me some popcorn.”

Dean switched the movie on and settled in next to Cas. The next hour was spent mocking the lines while Cas corrected inaccuracies. 

But then Goose died. 

Jess sniffled from her nest, and Sam reached down and wrapped his fingers around hers. Stealing a glance at Dean, he was surprised to see something other than sadness on his face. He was looking as Sam and Jess, and their easy affection. Sam rubbed his thumb over Jess’s hand before leaning down to kiss her temple. 

Dean watched them, his eyes flicking back to the screen after a moment. It was a strange expression, one Cas had never seen on his face before. 

Dean had looked -  _ jealous _ . 

* * *

 

In the morning, Cas got up and went for his usual morning run, but with Sam by his side, since he and Jess had spent the night. They jogged through the streets of the neighborhood, not really talking. Stopping to walk the last quarter mile back to the house, Cas could feel Sam fidgeting, like he wanted to say something. 

“What?” Cas finally asked. 

“Uh, nothing. You ready for today?”

“It’s hardly taxing to walk across a stage and collect my certificate.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, dumb question I guess.”

“I’m good. I’m excited and ready to be done.”

“Sure will miss you next year. In the almost ten years I’ve been teaching, you’re hands down the best TA I’ve ever had. You’ve always taken on so much of my work. It’s made my life a lot easier.”

“I tried to be helpful.”

“You were, believe me.” Sam stopped walking, turning to face Cas. “You know, I uh - I think of you like a brother. You’re my friend, definitely, but I don’t know. Just feel like more than a friend to me. I know it’s kinda late in the game, but I was wondering. When Jess and I get married next weekend, will you be my groomsman?”

“Sam, I’m honored. Of course I will.”

“Cool,” Sam grinned. “It’s gonna be super low key, so you won’t need a tux or anything. Just black pants and a white shirt. We were only gonna have a maid of honor and a best man, but Jess added another friend at the last minute and then I realized I really wanted you there, too, so yeah. Thanks for saying yes.” They resumed walking. “So you and Dean -”

“Are friends.” Cas was surprised at the little pang in his heart. “He doesn’t want more. We’ve discussed it. End of story.”

Sam looked utterly disappointed. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Let’s head home.” They walked the rest of the way in silence. 

* * *

 

Cas was standing in front of the big mirror in his bedroom, adjusting his tie. 

“Hey, Cas.” He turned to find Dean standing in the hall outside his room. 

“Hello, Dean,” he smiled. “You can come in.”

“Got something for you.” Dean held up a tie. “But you’ve already got one - I should’ve -” His face flamed and he started to back out of the room. 

“Dean, this is an old tie. I just grabbed it.”

“Oh. Well, this is a brand new one. It’s um. It’s Varvatos. I just thought - you should have something nice and new and I saw it in a store and - and -  _ itkindamatchesyoureyes _ ,” he spit out. 

“That was very thoughtful of you,” Cas said, pulling his tie off and tossing it on the bed. “I couldn’t get that one to look right, anyway. I have the worst luck with ties. Sometimes they end up backwards.”

“I can help you,” Dean offered. He stepped closer with the tie. “It’s silk,” he said. Gentle hands moved at his collar. “For one thing, you need to do up the button here.” Nimble fingers brushed against his throat, sliding the button into place. “Put the collar up,” Dean said, lifting the fabric up. He slid the tie around Cas’s neck, getting it settled where he wanted it. 

Cas stared down at Dean’s hands as he made the knot, sliding the tie up into place. “Then smooth the collar down.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little pin. “This is a tie tack. It’ll keep the tie down against your shirt. So it won’t be able to turn backwards.” He held it up. The initials CJN were engraved on the gold surface, and two tiny sapphires were set on either side of the C and N. 

“Dean - you had that made for me?”

Cheeks turning an alluring shade of pink, Dean nodded. “It’s a special day and you don’t have anyone to make a fuss. So I’m making a fuss. You deserve it, Cas.”

And there in his bedroom, as Dean carefully fastened the tie tack to his shirt, Castiel Novak realized the most important truth of his entire life. 

He was utterly in love with Dean Winchester. 


	7. A Heart Like a Flower Needs a Little Light

The week before the wedding was miserable and stressful. Crowley seemed to be really cracking down on Dean, no doubt motivated by Zachariah, who seem to think it was beneath him to speak to Dean at all, instead just giving him nasty looks when he happened to run into him in the corridor.

Dean spent extra hours at work, trying to get his numbers back up and build new accounts, all while desperately holding on to the accounts he already had. Lunches were eaten at his desk, but mostly not eaten at all. Work consumed him. He came home late every night, skipping dinner and crashing into bed. Wednesday night, he didn’t even get out of his suit first, falling face first onto his mattress in his clothes, with his shoes still on.

“Dean? I need your opinion -” Cas stopped in the doorway of his room, staring. “Are you ok?”

“I’m exhausted,” Dean admitted. “It’s only Wednesday and I feel like I’m not even going to make it to Friday.”

“Did you eat? You need to eat. I made dinner, there’s plenty left. C’mon, get up and come downstairs. Maybe change into something more comfortable. I don’t recommend sleeping in suits.”

“Don’t wanna get up,” Dean whined into the pillow.

“Then don’t. I’ll bring some dinner up.”

Groaning, Dean lifted his head just in time to see Cas disappear down the hall. He flopped onto his back and carelessly kicked his shoes off. Dean lay there, like a dead fish, until Cas reappeared with a tray.

“C’mon, get up. Get changed.”

“Ok, ok.” Dean dragged his ass out of bed. He yanked open a drawer and pulled out his old as hell _Sad But True_ Metallica shirt and a battered and beaten pair of KU sweats. Forgetting that Cas was in the room, he started stripping off his suit, not even bothering to hang it up. He tossed the jacket and pants on the floor, threw the tie and shirt over the ladderback chair in his huge closet and walked back into the bedroom in just his boxers and socks.

“Those are some interesting boxers,” Cas said, a big smile on his face.

“Oh,” Dean looked down. “I like ‘em. They’re soft and silky. And the bear is kinda badass, right?”

“Of course. Soft and silky, huh? Like panties.”

Dean blushed. “Uh, yeah,” he murmured, idly scratching at the back of his neck.

They stood for a moment, Dean half naked and Cas openly staring. Reaching blindly for the clothes on his dresser, Dean knocked over a few framed pictures and a cologne bottle before managing to close his fingers around his Metallica tee. He yanked it over his head and grabbed the sweats, pulling them on quickly.

“So, what’s for dinner?” he asked with false casualness, aware that his face was still bright red.

“Three bean soup and avocado with sliced tomato on toasted wheat.” Cas got the tray off the end of the bed and motioned for Dean to sit down. Dean sat and Cas positioned the tray over his lap.

“Dinner in bed, huh?”

“You seemed to be having a bad day. Least I can do.” Cas gestured to the tray. “Eat.”

“Alright.” Dean filled his spoon with some soup. The flavor burst across his tongue and he suddenly realized how hungry he really was. “Shit, Cas, this is great.”

Cas smiled from Dean’s closet, where he was carefully hanging up Dean’s suit. “I’m glad you like it.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Dean protested.

“I don’t mind. When you’re done, I need your opinion on the shirt I bought for Sam’s wedding. I wanted to compare it to whatever you bought, so we at least look sort of similar.”

“You’re in the wedding, too? Sam didn’t tell me that.”

“Oh.” Cas frowned. “He did say it was last minute. It doesn’t make you uncomfortable, does it?”

“No. I just uh - I dunno.” Dean picked up the toast and shoved it in his mouth.

Cas didn’t look convinced but didn’t say anything else. He finished with Dean’s suit and stepped into the bedroom, fetching Dean’s shoes from the floor. “These are nice,” he said, admiring the deep cherry toned leather before tucking them into the closet.  

“They’re expensive. Everything I own is expensive. I’m high maintenance, Cas.”

“You like nice clothes. That’s all.”

Dean finished eating and set the tray aside. “I dunno. I look at my life and all I see is the money I’ve thrown at it over the years. Clothes, and a ridiculous house. Three cars, a boat I never even use. What the fuck am I doing?”

“Dean, you’re incredibly stressed right now.”

“Unfortunate truth of my entire life.”

Cas’s frown grew deeper, and he tapped his chin with a forefinger, clearly deep in thought. “I’ve got an idea,” he said finally. “I’ll be right back.”

“Uh - ok?” Dean said, watching as Cas darted down the hall to his own room. Dean dragged himself out of bed and set the tray on his dresser. He hung his tie back on the rack and shoved his shirt into the dry cleaner’s bag, then closed the closet door and sat on the edge of his bed.

Cas was right. He was stressed. His skin felt itchy, too big for his body. Dean’s entire being throbbed with an unknown restlessness. He didn’t know how to sate it. All he really wanted was to pass out and sleep.

“I’ve got just the way to help you relax,” Cas announced, reappearing in Dean’s room. He held up an oddly phallic looking piece of glass and a baggie of what looked like dried leaves.

“Is that - is that _pot_?” Dean asked, his voice cracking like a teenager’s.

“Yup. Come outside on the patio with me. This’ll definitely help you relax.”

“I can’t - I can’t do that!” Dean protested. “I have to work in the morning!”

“A little high won’t hurt you, I promise. It’ll help you relax and you’ll sleep better. Trust me?” He held out his hand.

“Ok,” Dean said warily, letting Cas take his hand and pull him from the bed. He followed Cas through the hall and downstairs to the patio, watching as Cas lit the tiki torches. Grabbing cushions for the chaise lounges, he motioned for Dean to sit, joining him on the same chair.

“Have you ever done this before?” Cas asked, pulling a portion of the weed from the bag and packing it into the bowl of the little glass pipe.

“No.”

“Really?” Cas looked surprised. “Not even in college?”

“Well, I was kinda square at KU, and super focused on grades at MIT, so no, Cas, I’ve never done pot.”

“Ok, sorry,” Cas muttered.

“And how do you have pot experience? Pretty sure the Navy doesn’t allow drug use.”

“One, it’s not really a drug, per se. Two, I’ve been out for years. Made up for lost time.” Cas lit the pipe and took a deep drag, holding the smoke in his lungs before passing the pipe to Dean.

Dean stared down at the weird little pipe. Frowning, he lifted it to his lips and took a deep drag just like Cas had. He burst into a violent coughing fit.

“Oh no, sorry. Let’s try it like this,” Cas said, taking the pipe back. He took another deep drag, and before Dean really knew what was happening, his lips were millimeters from Cas’s as Cas exhaled into his face. Shocked, he sucked in the smoke from Cas’s lungs. He didn’t cough. He stared at Cas, still holding his breath.

“Exhale,” Cas whispered against his lips.

Dean did, and Cas smiled as the cloud of smoke drifted into the air over them. Time seemed to slow, sitting there in the growing dark. Cas exhaled into his lungs again and Dean dutifully sucked it all down, exhaling when Cas told him too.

He was starting to feel wonderfully floaty and peaceful. “Can I try?” he asked, reaching for the pipe. Cas nodded and handed it over and Dean took a deep, long drag. He held the smoke in his lungs, thrilled to be able to do it without coughing. Then, Cas was at his lips again, expectant, waiting for Dean to exhale. So he did. Cas sucked it all down, holding it for a moment before let the smoke go.

Dean leaned back in the chair, watching as Cas packed the bowl full again. They passed it back and forth a few times. “I’m fucking starving,” Dean said dreamily. “Like, could eat a house. Fuck.”

“Baby’s first case of munchies.” Cas giggled. “Let’s go see what we got.”

“Ok.” Dean followed him back into the kitchen and sat his ass on the counter. “I want pie. Do we have pie? Fuck I love pie.”

“Sorry, I don’t see any,” Cas told him, head in the fridge. “Ice cream, though.” He pulled out a Ben and Jerry’s container. “Cookie dough and actual dairy.”

“Ooh, gimme.”

Cas sidled up to him on the counter and handed him the container. He brandished a spoon and dug out a large bit of ice cream and shoved it into Dean’s mouth before digging out a chunk for himself. “Fuckkkk, I miss dairy sometimes.”

“Mmm,” Dean agreed.

Between them, they finished the ice cream, a bag of tortilla chips, and a large bowl of Cas’s guacamole. Then Cas decided to make pancakes and they stuffed themselves. By then, the high was starting to wear off and Dean felt pleasantly tired and ready to sleep.

“Better now?” Cas asked, leading Dean up the stairs to his room.

“Yup.”

“Good.”

“Never showed me your shirt,” Dean muttered, as Cas pretty much tucked him in.

“No worries, there’s always tomorrow.” Cas shut the bedside lamp off and kissed Dean’s forehead. “Sleep well.”

“You’re the best friend I got, Cas,” Dean said sleepily. “Thanks for being so nice to me.”

“You make it easy, Dean. Goodnight.” Cas’s voice sounded a little sad, but Dean was almost gone. He heard the door shut and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 

The morning of Sam and Jess’s wedding dawned bright and beautiful. Dean drove them to Lawrence in time to get photographed “helping” Sam get ready for his wedding. Then it was off to the church, and Cas slipped Dean a tissue when he started to cry a little at the vows.

Jess looked beautiful, with her blonde hair in thick curls around her shoulders. She’d opted for a flower crown instead of a veil, and her white dress was short and full skirted. It was the most casual, comfortable wedding Cas had ever attended.

The reception was at a bar called The Roadhouse, owned by Sam and Dean’s beloved Aunt Ellen and her daughter Jo. Cas got to meet Dean’s godparents, Bobby Singer and Jody Mills, who were apparently engaged themselves. It seemed like every last member of the extended clan was a cop, married to a cop, or worked with cops. Ellen’s husband, Bill, had been Rufus’s partner a long time ago, but had died of a heart attack at a young age. Bobby had been Rufus’s partner until retiring the year before, and Jody was also a member of the department. Jo, against her mother’s wishes, was a cop, and according to Rufus, a damn good one.

Even with all of that, and family traditions, not one person seemed the least bit put out that Sam and Dean weren’t cops. Cas wondered what his life would’ve been like without family members insisting that he join the Navy.

“One person did insist that I become a cop, but I didn’t listen to him,” Dean slurred, nearly knocking over his beer as he pulled Cas from his train of thought. “I keep worrying he’s just gonna show up. Sam didn’t invite him.”

“John?” Cas asked.

“Yeah. But he’s got another family. Wife and kid somewheres. I dunno. I ain’t seen him in a long long time and I hope it stays that way. Hate that guy. Every time he comes around he hits me or says something asshole-y. Loves his nicknames. Likes to call me anything but Dean - fag, fairy, I’ve even gotten slut a time or two. Such a fun guy. My mom calls him her sperm donor. Fuck John Winchester,” Dean said, raising his glass in a toast. “Lousy old drunk.” Dean looked at his beer glass. “Cas, don’t let me have any more beer, ‘k?” Dean shoved his glass away.

“I won’t. Would you like some water?”

“Nah. Maybe a coffee.”

“Alright.” Taking Dean’s glass with him, Cas wandered to the bar.

“What can I get ya?” Ellen asked with a smile.

“Coffee for Dean, please.”

Peering around him, Ellen’s sharp eyes found Dean across the room. “Is he ok?”

“Little morose, but I think he’s had a bit too much to drink. I’ll look after him.”

“I’m sure you will,” Ellen smiled, sliding a mug across the bar. “No sugar, no cream, just the way he likes it.” She slid a little bowl full of single serve creamers towards Cas. “But since he doesn’t have to be tough all the time, here’s some creamer and there’s sugar on the table.”

“Thanks, Ellen.”

“Thank you,” she grinned.

Dean was leaning against the wall behind the table, watching Sam and Jess dance. They were staring into each other faces, smiling and looking starry eyed. Dean looked sad.

“Hey,” Cas said, settling beside him. He slid the coffee and cream over. Ellen definitely knew Dean well, because all Cas had ever seen him drink was black coffee. But, without really even looking, Dean dumped two sugars and three of the creamers into the mug. “Are you alright?” Cas asked softly.

“Yeah. I dunno. I just -” he waved at Sam and Jess as he took a sip. “I’m happy for them.” He sighed and took another sip of coffee. “Looks like everyone’s got someone,” he muttered, staring down into the mug.

“Dean -”

“Don’t, Cas. Ok. Just don’t.” They sat in silence. Dean sipped his coffee and stared at the couples dancing. Rufus spun Mary around and she threw her head back and laughed. “Everyone’s having a great time.”

“They are indeed.”

“You don’t have to sit here with me in the loser’s corner, y’know? I see Jess’s friend, Sarah, checking you out. You could ask her to dance. I mean - you’re gay and all, but even gay dudes can enjoy a dance with a pretty girl.”

Cas chuckled. “I’m good.”

“Whatever,” Dean mumbled. One of Rufus’s younger cop buddies asked Sarah to dance and she agreed with a smile. “Missed your chance. Now you’re officially stuck with me.”

“I’m fine with that, although,” Cas stood and offered his hand to Dean. “Dance with me?”

_“There comes a time. A time in everyone's life. Where nothing seems to go your way. Where nothing seems to turn out right.”_

Dean looked up, his eyes wide. “You wanna dance with me?” he asked.

“Why not? It’s a nice, slow song so we don’t have to do anything special, just stand there and sway.” _Please say yes_ , Cas thought.

_“There may come a time, you just can't seem to find your place. And for every door you open, seems like you get two slammed in your face.”_

Dean listened to the song for a moment, seemed to consider his options. “Ok,” he finally said, getting to his feet. “But I’m probably gonna look stupid.”

“I doubt that,” Cas assured him, pulling him out to the dancefloor. “Half the people in here are doing what we’re gonna do. Swaying like high schoolers,” he grinned. He put his hands on Dean’s hips. Dean put his hands on Cas’s shoulders.

_“That's when you need someone, someone that you, you can call. When all your faith is gone, and it feels like you can't go on, let it be me.”_

“Ok. I hope this is what you wanted because I officially feel like an awkward high schooler. And dude, I was totally awkward in high school so I have a basis for comparison.”

“Were you?”

“Yeah. I was a total science nerd.”

“An adorable science nerd.”

“No. This was before I got my eyes fixed and I had to wear glasses. Big dork, trust me.”

Cas smiled. “I maintain that you were adorable. I’ve seen pictures.”

“You have terrible judgment,” Dean shot back.

“No I don’t.”

Dean was quiet after that, swaying gently as Cas led him around the dance floor. He seemed to be listening closely to the lyrics of the song.

_“Let it be me. If it's a friend that you need, let it be me. Let it be me.”_

Across the room, Sam caught Cas’s eyes over the heads of the other dancers, smiling and winking in his direction. Cas smiled back as he and Dean swayed in place.

_“Feels like you're always coming up last. Pockets full of nothing and you got no cash. No matter where you turn you ain't got no place to stand. You reach out for something and they slap your hand.”_

Dean’s hands slipped off of Cas’s shoulders as Dean wrapped his arms around Cas’s neck, shuffling so that he was standing a little closer. Cas let his own hands slide off of Dean’s hips, wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist and pulling him close. Dean let his head fall onto Cas’s shoulder, and his awkward, rigid posture disappeared as he relaxed in Cas’s arms. He wondered if it felt as good to Dean as it did to him, just standing there moving to the music. Cas closed his eyes and turned his face, pressing his nose to Dean's soft hair and breathing in the scent of him.

_“Now, I remember all too well, just how it feels to be all alone. You feel like you'd give anything, for just a little place you can call your own.”_

He wished Dean would really listen to the lyrics and let Cas in. He wanted to be everything for Dean, wanted to give Dean the world, but Dean wouldn’t let him in.

_“That's when you need someone, someone that you, you can call. When all your faith is gone, and it feels like you can't go on, let it be me. Let it be me. If it's a friend that you need, let it be me. Let it be me.”_

The song ended and switched to something a little more upbeat and bouncy. Dean lifted his head from Cas’s shoulder and stared at him, looking a little dazed. He stared at Cas’s lips and licked his own.

The moment seemed frozen in time.

“Dean -”

“I’m hungry,” Dean said, abruptly letting go and hurrying to the buffet tables.

“Dammit,” Cas muttered.

Mary appeared at his side with a glass of beer. “Don’t give up on my boy just yet,” she murmured. “You’re getting there. He’s a tough case to crack.” She kissed him on the cheek. “But you’re getting there.”

Cas stood in the middle of the dance floor as Mary walked away, his eyes still on Dean. “I hope you’re right,” he mumbled to himself.

* * *

 

After a great weekend watching Jess and Sam get married, going back to work Monday was the ultimate downer. As expected, work was terrible that morning. Tuesday was no better, and when lunch rolled around, all Dean wanted to do was get the hell out, so he left his food in the fridge and walked across the street to a sandwich shop. He ordered falafel on pita, not even really aware that he was ordering a vegan lunch.

There were no open tables inside, so Dean claimed a small table on the patio. Dean picked at his food, eyes downcast as he wondered what the hell was wrong with him.

“Can I share your table, dude? There aren’t any free ones.”

Dean startled slightly and looked up. His jaw dropped.

“Dean Winchester,” the guy breathed. “Holy shit.”

“Aaron.”

They stared at each other, frozen. Dean didn’t know what to say.

“So uh - can I share?” Aaron finally asked.

“Yeah, sorry, go ahead.”

Smiling, Aaron settled in at the table, unwrapping his pastrami. He took a big bite and groaned.

“Always did love your pastrami,” Dean grinned. “Bet you put bacon on it, too.”

“I did. I’m a terrible Jew,” Aaron chuckled. He leaned back in his seat. “Fuck, you look good. That suit. Man, you always did look fantastic in your fancy suits.”

Dean blushed and stared down at the table. “Thanks,” he muttered.

“Aw, don’t get all embarrassed. Not your fault you’re hotter than hell.” Aaron took another big bite while staring at Dean, looking like maybe he wanted to take a bite of Dean instead.

Aaron looked good, too. He was wearing a navy blue shirt under a maroon sweater vest, the sleeves of the shirt rolled halfway up his arms. His beard was neatly trimmed and he had a bit of a tan. He looked healthy and happy.

“So, seeing anyone?” he asked around his pastrami.

“Uh - no. Not at the moment. You?”

“Actually, I just moved in with someone. We’ve been together about a year.”

“Oh.” Dean’s appetite vanished and he set his sandwich back on the wrapper. “I uh - happy for you,” he mumbled. Dean stared down at the table, blinking his burning eyes. He would not cry. No way.

“Dean,” Aaron said softly. “It wasn’t all your fault, you know? I know how you get and I know you’ve probably taken all the blame for us breaking up, but I left you. I was the one that wasn’t willing to work it out. Remember?”

Dean looked up. Aaron smiled gently at him. “You said I was married to work.”

“I did. And you kinda were. But I wasn’t blameless either. I refused to meet you where you were, or even try to come to an understanding as to why you were working so much. A partnership is supposed to be exactly that - partners working together for a common goal. You worked too much, fine. But I wasn’t willing to work on us at all. We weren’t good for each other. It’s no one’s fault. And you still deserve to be happy and find someone. Ok?”

Overwhelmed, all Dean could do was nod. He picked at his sandwich, his mind turning Aaron’s words over.

“Wait, are you eating falafel? Since when do you do vegetarian?” Aaron cocked an eyebrow at Dean.

“Oh, my roommate. He’s a vegan and he’s been doing most of the cooking and I dunno. It’s good. I don’t really miss the meat. Although, when he gets stressed out, he apparently craves burgers and fuckin’ hell he can make a good burger. Juicy and delicious and seasoned just right, man oh man -” Aaron was staring at him with a little smile on his face, cheek resting in an open palm. “What?”

“You like this guy.”

“What? Dude he’s my roommate!” Dean protested.

“So? Why is that a problem? Unless he’s straight.”

“He’s not straight, believe me.”

“Ok, so why not make a move? You clearly really like this guy.” Aaron frowned. “Oh. Because of me. Because our relationship ended badly and you’re carrying the blame and you’re afraid to go down that road again.”

“Dude, do not psychoanalyze me. I always hated when you did that shit.” Dean folded his arms over his chest and glared at Aaron. “I’m not one of your patients.”

“Maybe you should be.”

“Two words: conflict of interest.”

“That’s three words, but you’re right.” Aaron’s phone chimed and he looked at it, sighing as he read the message. “Dean, I have to go. It was really great to see you again.” He stood and Dean stood as well, not the least surprised when Aaron stepped around the table and pulled him into a hug.

“Take care, man.”

“I will.” Aaron stepped out of the hug, holding Dean by the shoulders. “Listen, if you like this guy, go for it. You’re a good man, one of the best I’ve ever known, actually.”

“Aaron -”

“No. Shut up and listen. I loved you. I loved you a lot and I fell in love with you because you’re one of the kindest, most self-sacrificing people I’ve ever met. If there’s anyone in this world who deserves happiness, it’s you.”

Once again, Dean found himself blinking back tears.

“If you’re not happy, find what makes you happy. You deserve that much.” He stood on his tiptoes and kissed Dean on the cheek. “Be happy, Dean,” he smiled. Aaron turned on his heel and left, heading up the street, leaving Dean’s thoughts in turmoil.

* * *

 

At a meeting after lunch, Dean found it hard to concentrate on anything having to do with work. Between running into Aaron at lunch, and the ever present weight of one Castiel James Novak, he had no hope of staying focused on work.

Dean couldn't stop thinking about his roommate. He couldn’t get Cas’s face out of his mind. The morning of Cas’s graduation, when he’d stood in Cas’s room, putting that damn tie and tie-tac on him, he’d said that stupid shit about Cas deserving to have someone fuss over him and when he’d looked up, Cas’s eyes had gone all gentle and soft - fuck, Dean had wanted to kiss him. Wanted to kiss that sweet, impossibly gorgeous face and see where it went.

And then that whole dance at Sam and Jess’s reception. Shit, he should have kissed him. The moment was perfect, the lighting was right, and even the damn words of the song - _when all your faith is gone, and it feels like you can't go on, let it be me_ \- the song was tailor made for that moment. Cas’s eyes had been so bright and honest, it would have been nothing to have gotten swept away.

He’d dreamt about Cas the night before. Wasn’t even a raunchy sex dream. No, he’d dreamt about taking a walk through a pretty park and enjoying a picnic. The dream was so fucking sappy, he’d woken up just as he and Cas were feeding each other little pies, hands clasped together. It was absolutely ridiculous.

And if he was being honest, everything he’d ever wanted.

“Mr. Winchester, are you listening to anything I’m saying?” Crowley barked.

Startling, Dean splashed coffee on the conference table. “Yes - of course.” He grabbed some napkins and wiped up the mess.

“Please. You’ve been staring into space for the past twenty minutes,” Zachariah Adler sneered. He turned to Crowley. “We talked about this. But no, you’re determined to keep your little protege here. I wanted you fired,” he informed Dean, “but Crowley considers you to be his precious pet, so here you are, wasting all of our time.”

Across the room, Gordon Walker sniggered, an ugly expression on his face.

Crowley and Adler were loudly arguing about Dean, and he watched them with detached interest.

 _I don’t want to be here,_ he thought. _So why am I staying? Charlie and Cas are right. I could go back to school. Cas said he’d come with me - do I want him to come with me?_

He thought about Cas’s pretty blue eyes and the way he cooked for him and helped around the house. The way Cas looked at him when he thought Dean wasn’t looking. The sweet expression on Cas’s face when he asked for a dance. The way Cas seemed to constantly concern himself with Dean’s welfare.

Cas said he liked him. Cas wanted to be part of his life. A big part, an important part -

_What am I doing here? I hate this job. I hate everything about my life, except for Cas. I want to get out. I want more. I want a life - I want my dreams back. I want Cas._

_I_ want _Cas._

Dean chuckled, leaning back in his chair.

_Be happy, Dean._

“What are you laughing at?” Adler asked. “What could possibly be funny about this?”

Looking from Crowley and his obvious confusion, to Adler’s apoplectic face, to Gordon’s smug expression, Dean threw his head back and laughed. Laughed until tears streamed down his face. When he finally calmed, he wiped his eyes and looked around at several shocked faces.

“Do you know what my IQ is?” Everyone stared at him blankly. “181. Fuckin’ 181. You know that makes me an actual, certified genius? Did you know I could’ve skipped seventh grade but I didn’t want to leave my friends? Like for real, I’m a fucking actual genius. And I’m sitting here, selling insurance policies at a job I hate, a job that has me terrified to take time off because I might get shitcanned. But really, why do I care if I get shitcanned? This is a fucking terrible job. I was top of my class at MIT. Did I ever tell you guys I went to MIT? I don’t even put it on my resume, and that’s a damn shame.”

“What are you -” Crowley started.

“I quit,” he told them, standing up. “Effective immediately. I fucking quit.” He tossed his stack of manila folders at Gordon, watching in satisfaction as they opened and sent papers flying. “You want my job, pal? All yours. Have fun.” Still chuckling, he grabbed his suit jacket off the back of his chair and tossed it over his shoulder. “Arrivederci assholes!”

Back in his office, he took a few deep breaths, aware of how hard his heart was pounding. Dean grabbed a small box and started tossing the things he cared about inside. His pictures, his diploma from KU, extra phone chargers and an extra tie, anything he really wanted fit in the box. The Macbook belonged to the company, so he took a moment to put anything he actually cared about onto an external hard drive before setting up the computer to do a full wipe and reboot. He’d be damned if anyone benefitted from all his hard work. Dean was burning his bridges. No way in hell would he ever come back to this place.

“Have you bloody lost your mind?” Crowley stormed into Dean’s office, shoving the door open so hard it crashed into the wall.

“Nope,” Dean said, tossing a small version of the Impala in his box. “For the first time in a very long time, I feel like I know what I want. I’m getting out, Crowley. While I’m still young enough to change my life and get away from all of this.”

“I fought for you. I fought Adler to keep you when he wanted to can your ass a month ago.” Crowley dropped into a chair.

“I know,” Dean offered sincerely. “I do. And I am grateful. I swear. Just - this isn’t for me. I’m fooling myself into thinking I’m happy when I’m fucking miserable. I have to chase this dream now, while I’m still young enough to do it.”

Crowley sighed. “I’m disappointed. I always thought you’d take my place someday. Adler was right - you are my protege. I see so much of myself in you. But there’s no going back now. I had to talk Adler down to keep him from giving you a security escort.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.”

Standing, Crowley brushed nonexistent dust off of his flawless Armani. “Good luck, boy. Whatever it is you’re looking for, I do hope you find it.”


	8. There's a New Sun Arisin'

Dean left everything in the BMW. He let himself into the house, smiling at the tell tale sound of bass coming from above. He headed upstairs, standing in Cas’s doorway, watching as he spun around on that pole. 

“Dean!” Cas said, catching sight of him. “It’s only two, why are you home already?”

He walked into the room, walking towards Cas. “Did you mean it?” he asked, voice a little shaky. “When you said you’d come with me to Cambridge. Did you mean it?”

“Absolutely,” Cas said. Walking over to Cas’s iPod, Dean scrolled through it. “Dean? Are you alright?”

Finding the song he was looking for, Dean smiled and pressed play. He sat on the end of Cas’s bed as  _ Father Figure _ blasted through the speakers. “Dance for me, Cas?” he said, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Dean?”

“Please.”

Clearly confused, Cas nodded. Cas moved through the first two verses, the chorus, Dean watching avidly the whole time. He seemed distracted, like he was afraid to be too alluring. Cas kneeled at Dean’s feet, hands on his knees. “Are you sure you’re alright?” Cas asked. 

Dean put his finger Cas’s lips. “Ssh.” Cas’s eyes darkened. “Oops. I forgot, can’t touch the dancers.” He pulled his hand away but not before dragging his fingertip over Cas’s lip. 

“Tell me what you want, Dean - I’m afraid I’m misreading this.” 

“I want what you want, Cas. I was stupid to fight it.”

Cas took a shuddering breath. “Are you sure?”

Dean nodded. 

A smile like the sun rising spread over Cas’s handsome face and he shoved Dean down onto the bed, covering him with his body. “Can I kiss you?” he asked breathlessly. 

“Yes, please Cas -” Cas cut him off with a firm press of lips, and Dean gave himself over fully to the kiss. Cas slipped his tongue between Dean’s lips and wow, was he going to get addicted to that real quick. 

Cas pulled back, and Dean was pleased to see his cheeks were flushed. “You asked me if I was sure about going to Cambridge with you. Does that mean -”

“I quit my job. I feel six kinds of crazy but I walked out.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. So uh - tomorrow, I gotta get the house on the market, and post ads for the BMW, the Vette, and the boat.”

“And the Prius. If we’re going together, we’ll only need one car. The Impala stays.”

Dean’s heart swelled. “Fuck, I love you.” He blushed. “I uh - I mean that.”

“I love you, too,” Cas smiled, leaning down to kiss him again. “You should get into something more comfortable. I was just about to make an early dinner. Have you eaten?”

“I had some of a sandwich. Had meetings all morning. Fuck, Cas,” Dean said, slapping a hand over his eyes. “I quit in the middle of a board meeting. I don’t even know if MIT will take me back. I’ve fucking lost my mind.”

“No, you haven’t. And I’m sure they will. Everything will work out.” Cas kissed him softly. “Now, go get changed. We’re going out. We’re going to celebrate. Get moving!”

“Ok,” Dean smiled, letting Cas pull him from the bed. “I’m really doing this, huh?”

“You really are. I’m so proud of you.”

“You know what?” Dean grinned. “I’m proud of myself.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Shit, I got a lot to do.”

“Not tonight. Tonight, I’m taking you out to dinner. Our first date.” Cas hooked his fingers into Dean’s suit pants and pulled him closer, kissing him chastely. “If you’re ok with that.”

“I’m more than ok,” Dean said, chasing Cas’s lips. 

“Uh uh,” Cas gently shoved him away. “Start that and we’ll never make it out of the house.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” 

“I want to do this right. Let me take you out.” Cas pulled Dean close again. “You won’t regret it,” he breathed in Dean’s ear. “I promise.”

“Ok, fine. I’ll go get changed.” 

“Good.” Cas squeezed Dean’s hand. 

Dragging himself from Cas’s room was an exercise in self control. All Dean really wanted to do was strip naked and let Cas have his way with him. But he did as Cas asked, slipping out of his fancy suit and carefully hanging it up. He grabbed one of his nicer pairs of jeans and a soft, well loved Led Zeppelin shirt. 

Deciding to take a quick shower, he tossed the clothes on his bed and let his boxers fall to the floor. It was tempting to rub one out in the shower, but Dean was anxious to get back to Cas, so he simply washed and got out. Once dry, he went to the dresser to pull out underwear. 

For the first time in months, his fingers sorted through the pretty panties in the back of his top drawer, carefully hidden behind the boxers and socks. 

He pulled out a pair of Agent Provocateur panties he’d bought right before Cas moved in but had never worn. Dean had been saving them for a special occasion. They were sheer black mesh, with pretty pink and purple lace flowers along the waistband. He’d paid $175 for them, one of the most expensive pairs he’d ever bought. Sliding them up his legs and carefully tucking himself in, Dean admired the way they fit. Eating vegan had been good for him. That last little bit of tummy pudge was almost gone, and the panties fit like they’d been made especially for him. Shit, his ass looked  _ great! _

Putting his jeans over top was almost a letdown, but if the night went the way he was hoping it would, those panties would be seen by someone other than him a little later anyway. He finished dressing quickly, pulling on the tee and layering a thin blue and green plaid button down overtop. Dean grabbed a pair of socks and some sneakers and headed downstairs. 

“You look nice,” Cas smiled, leaning in for a kiss. “And smell wonderful.” 

“Thanks. You look good, too,” he said, admiring Cas’s ass as he turned to walk into the kitchen. Dean sat a chair to put his socks and shoes on. “So where are we going?”

“I thought we could see a movie and then find somewhere for dinner. There’s lots to do in KC.”

“True. We’ll take the BMW then.”

“No, we’ll take the Prius. I’m taking you on a date and I’m driving. And don’t get any ideas about paying for anything.”

“Ok, ok.” Dean stood. “I’m kinda excited and a little nervous, not gonna lie.”

Cas stepped closer and pulled Dean in. “Don’t be nervous. We’re gonna have a good time, ok?” Cas kissed Dean softly. “Let’s go, or I’ll start thinking of reasons to stay in.”

“That’s so not a bad thing,” Dean grinned, letting Cas drag him out to the Prius. 

* * *

 

They saw a completely forgettable movie. Probably a good thing, since halfway through, Dean shyly slipped his hand into Cas’s, and Cas wouldn’t have been able to say what the plot was from that point forward - he was too busy learning the taste and feel of Dean’s lips. They went to dinner afterwards, at a cozy downtown sushi bar.

“How do we keep ending up at sushi joints?” Dean asked, stirring wasabi into soy sauce. 

“Because - veggies for me, meat for you. Best of both worlds. So, back to MIT?” Cas asked, using his chopsticks to pop some tempura broccoli into his mouth. 

“Yeah. I think I need to go for it. I’m not happy with what I’m doing now, and probably never was. But it was safe, and for a while anyway, I was good at it. I dunno.” 

“I can’t believe you quit your job.” 

“Man, neither can I. I’m not the kinda guy that does impulsive, crazy shit like that. I dunno, though. I just feel,” Dean sipped at his saké. “I feel free. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I could do anything, be anything.” He chuckled. “Am I officially having a midlife crisis?”

“No. You’re making changes, changes you need to make to be happy. This is a good thing, Dean.” 

Dean set his chopsticks aside and reached across the table, winding his fingers into Cas’s. “I wanna see where this is going, too. I have no idea what I'm doing, not gonna lie. I uh - I’m scared. After Aaron, I’m afraid I don’t have what it takes to be in a serious, committed relationship. But god, Cas, I want to be. I want it so fucking bad.”

Cas smiled. “And I think you know how I feel about you.” He pulled Dean’s fingers to his lips and kissed them. “But I’m really looking forward to showing you how I feel.”

“I’m looking forward to that, too,” Dean said, cheeks pinking. 

* * *

 

After sushi, they walked along the waterfront, holding hands and chatting. Cas felt like he was floating a few feet off the ground, with his fingers wrapped around Dean’s while they talked about mundane things. 

“Want ice cream?” Cas, spying a vendor. 

“Sure.” 

They both ordered cones; mint chocolate and triple chocolate for Cas, cinnamon apple pie for Dean. “You’re eating dairy,” Dean commented with a smile. 

“We all scream for ice cream,” Cas snarked, moaning around a burst of chocolaty goodness. 

“You’re not a very good vegan, are you?”

“I’m a mostly good vegan. Shut up and eat your ice cream.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean grinned. A little flare of arousal flamed in Cas’s belly. Apparently Dean noticed. “You ok over there, buddy?”

“I’m fine. I just uh - like the sound of yes, sir coming out of that pretty mouth.”

Dean’s cheeks reddened immediately. “Oh.”

“Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No. Not really.” Dean licked his ice cream. “I um. I’m kinda into that kinda thing. There’s a reason I’m bi with a preference for guys.”

“Oh? You enjoy being dominated?”

His cheeks went impossibly redder, and Dean’s eyes darted off to the side, staring out at the river. “Yeah,” he said, voice almost a whisper. 

“Well. That is definitely something we’re going to have to explore. Since I do enjoy dominating.” 

“I think I want to go home now,” Dean said. He was breathing heavy and his pupils had dilated a bit. 

“Me too.” 

* * *

 

The ride home was filled with delicious tension and sweet anticipation. Once back inside the house, Cas took Dean by the hand and led him to the living room. Dean looked confused when Cas gestured for him to sit on the couch. 

“Is everything ok?” he asked nervously. 

“Yes. I just thought we should talk a bit before anything else happens. I want you, Dean. Don’t think for a moment I don’t. But after telling me you like domination, I feel like we need to discuss things further.”

“I didn’t mean we had to do the dom/sub thing right out the gate, you know?” Dean scooted closer and took Cas’s hands in his. “Cas, I just want to be with you. Details like safe words and shit like that can be worked out later, ok? For now, just fucking kiss me.”

“Of course,” Cas said, hooking a hand behind Dean’s neck and pulling him close. “I will never get tired of this,” he vowed, pulling Dean in for a kiss. Dean’s lips were sweet, the lingering taste of cinnamon clinging to them. He gently teased Dean’s mouth open, slipping his tongue inside. 

Dean moaned a little, his hands sliding up Cas’s back and tugging him impossibly closer. Before Cas knew it, they were flat on the couch with him on top of Dean. He’d completely lost track of time, utterly wrapped up in kissing Dean. 

“Shit,” Cas said, pulling back. Dean was wrecked, flushed with his hair going in a million different directions. 

“Something wrong?”

“No. I was thinking about suggesting we move this upstairs, but I don’t want to push, Dean. I don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“Fuck that, I’m more than ready. I’ve been alone for long enough and you come in and turn my entire world upside down. And you know what? I like it. So fuck waiting.” Dean squirmed out from under Cas and stood. “I’m gonna grab a bottle of champagne out of my fridge and a couple of glasses. We’re gonna go upstairs and run a hot bath and soak in my big ass tub. And from there? We’ll see what happens. Ok?”

“Ok,” Cas said breathlessly. “Shit, Dean. I think I like it when you take charge.”

“Good.” Dean winked. He disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared a moment later with the champagne and two flutes. “Let’s go.” 

* * *

 

Dean was nervous as fuck. No matter how he tried to play it off like he was calm and in charge, he was incredibly nervous. He fussed around the bedroom, lighting candles while the tub filled. Cas didn’t seem to know what to do with himself, awkwardly opening the champagne and pouring it into glasses while Dean lit candles. 

The tub was full by then, and Dean shut off the water. He left the steam filled bathroom to face Cas in the candle lit bedroom, unsure what to do next. 

“I guess we should get undressed,” Cas said uncertainly. 

“Yeah.” 

But neither one of them moved. 

Finally, Dean clumsy kicked off his sneakers. Cas followed, looking just as silly. 

“Oh, this is ridiculous,” Dean laughed. “We’re pathetic.”

“Yes, yes we are,” Cas agreed. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

“Me, neither,” Dean said. He picked up one of the champagne glasses and handed it to Cas. “Maybe some music?” Pushing a button on the small stereo in his room, Dean chuckled when the  _ How Deep is Your Love  _ started playing. “Nothing like the Bee Gees to ruin the mood,” he said, going to change it.

“Don’t,” Cas murmured in his ear. “I like this song.” He sucked Dean’s earlobe into his mouth, and Dean forgot about changing the station. Cas pulled him back against his chest, sliding a hand up under Dean’s tee. 

Dean’s eyes fluttered shut. His hand covered Cas’s as they swayed slowly in the middle of Dean’s bedroom. “Drink,” Cas whispered, holding the glass to Dean’s lips. Opening up, he let the cold liquid pour over his tongue and down his throat. 

Cas set the glass back on Dean’s dresser. The hand that was up Dean’s shirt slipped away, and both of Cas’s hands tugged the plaid shirt off his shoulders. Then his hands were back, holding Dean close against his chest. He felt a tug on his tee and lifted his arms. The tee hit the ground a moment later. 

“Cas -”

“Sssh,” Cas soothed. “Relax.” Cas’s fingers found the button on his jeans, and Dean held his breath in anticipation. The button popped. Dean put his hands over Cas’s hands, his heart pounding as Cas unzipped him. 

Their hands moved as one as Cas dipped down into his jeans, cupping him over his quickly dampening panties. 

“Oh fuck, you’re wearing them. I want to see.” Cas pulled away and spun Dean around to face him. His eyes were dark, hooded. Dean looked down and could see the clear outline of a significant bulge. 

Cas hit his knees. 

“Fuck,” Dean breathed. 

Smiling evilly up at him, Cas slowly pulled Dean’s jeans down. “Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he rasped. He quickly freed Dean of his jeans and socks, leaving him naked except for the panties. Cas ran his hands slowly up Dean’s legs, leaving goosebumps in his wake. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He leaned forward and mouthed at Dean’s dick through the fabric. 

“Oh god,” Dean moaned, hands reaching out to wrap in the thick strands of Cas’s dark hair. Cas hummed and sucked a little harder, making Dean’s knees wobble. He pulled Dean’s dick through the leg hole and dragged his tongue up a slow trail from the base to the head. 

“Mmm, gonna wreck these pretty little panties, Dean.” 

“Yeah, Cas, do it, do it.” 

Cas shoved his face into Dean’s crotch, hands sliding up to grab his ass and pull Dean closer. His mouth was hot on him as he sucked Dean down. Cas’s mouth was insistent, bringing Dean closer and closer to the edge with with every movement. 

Two years without sex had not been good for his stamina. 

“Fuck, Cas, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come - shit -” And come he did. Cas held him up, his strong hands supporting Dean at the waist as he shuddered through the aftershocks. Moaning around his dick, Cas licked up every last drop like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. 

When Dean was no longer on the verge of collapse, Cas stood. He shed his clothes quickly, Dean watching hungrily. “Gonna fuck me? I want you to fuck me,” Dean said shamelessly, eyes on the huge dick Cas pulled out of his boxers. “Jesus fuck, I want you to fuck me.”

“I will. Bath first.” 

“What? No!” Dean whined. 

“Bath first. It’ll give you time to recover. Because I promise you,” Cas growled in his deep voice as he pulled Dean in closer, “when I fuck you, you’re going to come.”

“Fuck,” Dean whispered, unable to fight a full body shudder. 

“Soon,” Cas promised. 

* * *

 

They left the ruined panties on the floor in the bathroom and climbed into the tub. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” Cas admitted, wrapping his arms around Dean. “I honestly thought it wasn’t going to happen. That was the longest couple of months of my life.”

“I’m stubborn. Sorry about that.”

“You weren’t stubborn. You were scared. There’s a difference.”

Dean leaned back against Cas’s chest. “I guess I really was. I dunno. I’m still kinda worried I won’t be able to keep this together. I’m afraid I just don’t have what it takes, Cas. And I’m bringing all this other stress into the relationship. I just quit my job. I kinda don’t know what my future holds.”

Cas kissed the side of Dean’s neck. “What do you want it to hold?”

“You, for one. MIT. I dunno beyond that. But I want my damn Mechanical Engineering degree, dammit. I want to do something with cars. I know that much.”

“Well you’ve got me, sweetheart. And we’ll figure out the rest.”

Dean twisted so he could look back at Cas. “Are you sure? I don’t want to -”

“I said I was sure. I’ll come with you. Whatever comes next, we’ll do it together.” He kissed Dean. “I think you should know this, Dean Winchester. I have you now, and I absolutely intend to keep you.” 

“Ok. I uh - I want to keep you, too.”

“Good.” Cas kissed him again, deeper this time. 

Shifting until he was facing Cas, Dean pulled him to the center of the tub, climbing into his lap with his legs around Cas’s waist. The kissing quickly grew heated, and Dean rolled his hips down into Cas’s. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, doing it again. 

“Let’s move this to your bed,” Cas told him in between pressing kisses along the hinge of his jaw. 

“Yeah, ok.” Dean fumbled behind him for the drain. They helped each other out of the tub, perfunctorily swiping at each other with fluffy towels. Stumbling blindly across the candlelit bedroom, Cas tumbled Dean into the bed. 

“Cas -” 

“Shh, just relax. I’m going to make you feel so good, beautiful.” Cas kissed Dean hard, then laid a line of sweet kisses down his neck. “I know we said we weren’t going to jump right into scening, but how do you feel about edging?”

“Uh -,” Dean’s brain blanked out as Cas sucked his nipple into his mouth. “Fuck.”

“I asked you a question.”

“Oh - yeah, I’m into that. Jesus -” Dean gasped as Cas rolled his nipple between his teeth. 

“I’m in charge. Tell me if you need to stop.”

“Yeah, ok.” Something in Dean’s brain shorted out as Cas slid a hand down his dick. “Cas -” 

“What, sweetheart?” Cas asked, sliding back up to kiss him again. 

“I like edging - fuck,” Cas’s hand was evil. “But I want - I want -”

“What do you want?”

Feeling ridiculous, Dean muttered, “it’s been a long time for me.”

Cas propped himself up on an elbow and looked down at Dean. “Do you want to stop? We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

“But I do want to. That’s just it. I just - I want - I want -”

“What?” Cheeks flaming, Dean looked away. “Tell me what you want, Dean.”

“You’ll think I’m stupid. Just uh - do what you were gonna do.”

Cas frowned. “That’s not what you want. Dean, how long has it been?”

“Uh. Like um. Two years?” 

“Oh.” Cas ran a gentle hand down Dean’s side. “Are you...afraid?”

“No. I’m not afraid, I just want - I want -” Dean felt so silly. “I just want it to be special, Cas. I wanna-” 

“Do you want to make love, Dean? Slow and easy?”

“Yes. Fuck, Cas, that’s what I’m trying to ask for. Like, I want all that other stuff. I want to get out the ropes and do what you tell me to do, but tonight - fuck. Just hold me and - and -”

“Make love to you.” Cas leaned in for a sweet, deep kiss. “I’ll give you whatever you want. However you want.” He kissed behind Dean’s ear. “Open you up slow and make it last all night if that’s what you want.”

“Yeah,” Dean breathed. “That sounds perfect.” He ran his hand up Cas’s spine, sighing happily as Cas sucked a mark on his neck. Relishing the way his skin felt pressed against Cas’s, Dean wondered why he’d resisted so long. All they were doing was kissing and Dean already felt completely swept away. 

Leaving his neck, Cas zeroed in on his lips again, gently sucking Dean’s bottom lip into his mouth. He bit down lightly. “Fuck, you taste so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. Been dreaming of your lips for quite a while now.”

“Am I living up to your expectations?”

Cas raised his head and smiled. “More than, sweetheart.” 

Dean smiled back, feeling a little like he was floating. “Awesome.”

“Lube?”

“Drawer,” Dean pointed vaguely in the direction his nightstand. 

Cas pulled himself from Dean, leaning just far enough to get into the drawer. He still had a leg wedged between Dean’s, his right hand on Dean’s arm as he reached into the nightstand with his left. 

“This isn’t lube,” he announced, holding up a bright pink dildo.

“Oh god.” Dean slapped a hand over his face. 

“We’re definitely going to talk about that later...and use it, too. Fuck, I’d love to tie you up and keep you on edge for hours, until you’re begging to come - found it!”

“Jesus.”

“Does that sound good to you?” Cas asked, pumping some of the lube onto his fingers. 

“Yeah. Sounds really good.” 

“Hmm. We’ll definitely have to do that sometime, then. But for right now -” Cas ran his fingertips down Dean’s dick. “Time for other things.” He slid down Dean’s body, trailing his tongue all the way down until he was gently licking at Dean’s dick. 

“Fuck -” 

“Eventually.” Cas sucked Dean into his mouth. His hand slipped under Dean’s leg, and a lube slick finger circled Dean’s hole before firmly pressing in. 

Dean moaned, body arching off the bed. Two years. Two years since anyone had last touched him, and even though Cas had already treated him to a spectacular orgasm, it wasn’t going to take much to shove Dean right back over. 

Feeling helpless and overwhelmed with pleasure as Cas added a second finger, Dean could feel his orgasm building. 

“Not yet,” Cas growled, clamping a hand around Dean’s dick. “Maybe you want me to make love to you, and I will, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy bringing you to the edge and not let you fall over.” He slid back up Dean’s body. “I’m going to make this last as long as I can, sweetheart.” He leaned in for a kiss and Dean felt a third finger slip inside of him. 

Dean couldn’t help but whimper, as Cas began thrusting his fingers harder. Dean’s back bowed, hands reaching up to wrap in Cas’s hair. 

“Yeah, that’s it. Let go. Enjoy this, feel it. Let me take care of you.” 

Whining, Dean slipped his hands around Cas’s neck, pulling him down into a hard kiss. Their teeth clacked together and Dean recoiled slightly from the pain. Cas licked into his mouth, slamming his hand into Dean and keeping pace with his tongue against Dean’s. 

Dean was drowning. It was the only word he could think of to describe the incredible waves of pleasure washing over his body, and shit, Cas was bringing him right back up to that edge again. He could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening -

Cas squeezed down on the base of his cock. Dean cried out, riding out the waves of feedback from the denied orgasm. “Ssh,” Cas soothed. “It’s ok. We’re going to get there.” He pulled back, leaving Dean gasping for air in the middle of his big bed, starfished across the sheets. 

Dean heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper as he lay there, trying to calm his frantically beating heart. Then Cas was back, pushing Dean’s legs up and settling between his spread thighs. 

“Hello, beautiful,” Cas murmured, kissing under Dean’s jaw, leaving more sweet kisses across his face until he reached his lips. “Breathe,” he whispered, pushing in slowly. 

“Cas -” Dean gasped against the other man’s lips. “Fuck - so big.”

“You’re so warm, Dean. You feel so incredible.” Cas bottomed out, hips resting against Dean’s. “Fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long. I just - I was starting to believe we’d never get here. Dean - Dean, I love you,” Cas whispered. 

“I love you, too,” Dean whispered back, eyes flooding. Cas kissed him then, soft, sweet and perfect. “Baby, please move. C’mon, let me feel you.”

Nodding, Cas pulled his hips back and slid home again. He built a slow and gentle rhythm, rocking Dean on the mattress. Cas straightened up, kneeling with his hands resting on Dean’s bent knees. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Dean said, awed. Cas was sweaty, his hair was a ruffled mess. But his ab muscles fluttered with every thrust and his arms were huge, his eyes dark and hooded. He was the most beautiful thing Dean had ever seen. 

Cas leaned down and wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist. He pulled Dean up with him, sitting Dean in his lap while he continued thrusting into Dean’s willing ass. In this new position, Dean could wrap his arms around Cas’s neck, holding on for dear life while Cas rocked his world. 

“You’re so deep, fuck,” Dean whined, letting his head fall back. “But I want - want you deeper. Let me ride you, Cas. Please? Wanna ride you.”

“Fuck yes,” Cas said. He pulled out of Dean and flopped onto his back. “C’mon, do it. I want to see you.” 

Dean slung one leg over Cas to straddle his hips. Before he had a chance to do a damn thing, Cas had pulled him down onto his cock. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Cas thrust up into Dean. “Fuck, you are - easily -” Dean bounced himself on Cas’s dick, “the biggest - fucking - cock - I’ve ever -  _ fuck _ \- had!” 

Cas grinned evilly, wrapping a hand around Dean’s leaking dick. “And you’re the prettiest thing I’ve had on my dick. Just wish you still had those panties on.”

“Oh god -” Dean moaned. His rhythm faltered. 

“You’re close aren’t you?”

“Mmhmm, please don’t stop me, fuck, Cas, I gotta come. Please let me come,” Dean begged. 

“You can come anytime, sweetheart. I’m close, too.” 

“Oh shit, oh shit -” One more good drag of Cas’s hand along his shaft and Dean’s world whited out. He came so hard he couldn’t see, and when he regained awareness, Dean was cradled in Cas’s strong arms. 

He smiled dopily at him. “Was it good?” Dean slurred. 

“It was wonderful,” Cas assured him. 

“Good.” He snuggled into Cas’s arms, vaguely aware of Cas removing the condom, tying it off, and tossing it in the general direction of the bathroom. 

“We should clean up,” Cas murmured, dragging his fingers through Dean’s sweaty hair. 

“Eventually.” Dean kissed the underside of Cas’s jaw. “Just stay here for now.” 

_ “Well, make a wish, baby. And I will make it come true. Make a list baby, of the things I'll do for you. Ain't no risk in lettin' my love rain down on you, so we can wash away the past so that we may start anew.”  _

Dean scowled. “Did we really just fuck to Ambrosia?”

“Mmm. And Bread, the BeeGees, James Taylor, a little Fleetwood Mac. Why? What do you usually make love to?”

“Not this. This is,” Dean struggled to find the right word. “Corny!” he settled on finally. 

“Nothing wrong with corny.” Cas chuckled. “ _ Got a feelin' that forever, _ ” he sang, his voice low and raspy. 

“Stop -” Dean protested.

“ _ We are gonna stay together. _ ”

“Your voice sucks,” Dean complained, squirming away when Cas started to tickle him.

“ _ From now until forever, you're the biggest part of me _ ,” Cas sang, easily flipping Dean onto his back. “ _ You're the life that breathes in me, you're the biggest part of me _ -” 

Dean forgot to complain about the music as he got lost in sweet kisses once again. 


	9. I Think This Journey Might Be Mine

June was spent preparing for a move. Dean put the house on the market the day after he quit his job. A former coworker had shown interest in his boat, so he sent him an email. Jesse and his husband, Cesar, enjoyed a day on the water with Dean and Cas, and were happy to cut Dean a check for more than he owed. 

A week later, the Corvette sold. Dean broke even, able to pay off the remaining balance with a couple hundred to spare. While he was busy selling things off, he applied for MIT. Just after the BMW finally sold midway through July, he got his acceptance letter. 

“Holy shit.” He stared down at the white paper in his hand. 

“Good news?” Cas asked tentatively. 

“Uh - I got in. They say they’re thrilled that I’m returning. Holy shit.” He looked up to find Cas smiling at him. “I’m going back to school. Shit, Cas, I’m going back!”

“Of course you are,” Cas crossed the room to him and wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and spun him around. “I’m so proud of you,” Cas said, leaning in for a kiss. 

“You know what? I’m proud of me, too.”

* * *

 

They sold off just about all of the furniture. Dean decided to leave the patio stuff to the next owner, but the dining room set, the huge couch, all of that got sold off. The desk from his office was sold, too. They kept Dean’s big dresser and his bed with it’s memory foam mattress. Books went into boxes, likely heading for storage in Massachusetts. Sam and Jess were offered Cas’s bed for their guestroom. They got the kitchen table and chairs, too.

“I swear I feel like I’m planning an escape or something,” Dean commented, looking around the barren first floor.

“Aren’t we?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess we are.” 

Cas kissed him. “But together. We’re in this together.”

Dean smiled. “That’s the best part.”

* * *

 

It was almost August by the time someone finally put an offer on the house. Dean crossed his fingers and sent up every kind of prayer that the sale would go through. Cas’s Prius sold the week they closed on the house, and two weeks later, at the end of August, the movers closed the door on the truck and pulled out of the driveway. 

“So this is it,” Dean said, standing in the driveway with Cas’s arms wrapped around him as the moving truck pulled away. “I’m really doing this.”

“You really are.”

“Fuck.” 

“Too late to panic now, sweetheart. All of our stuff is gone.” Cas kissed the back of Dean’s neck. “However, since Sam and Jess won’t be here to get my old bed until later, I highly suggest we go make use of it once last time.”

“Shit, I fucking love that idea. I wanna use the tub once last time, too.”

“Definitely.” Cas’s hand slid into the front of Dean’s jeans. “Ooh, silky. Which ones?”

“Those little red ones you bought me last week.”

Cas damn near instantly hardened against his ass. “Yeah. Upstairs. Now.” 

Dean laughed all the way up the steps. 

* * *

 

Their last night in Kansas was spent at Mary and Rufus’s house in Lawrence. All of Dean’s family was in attendance, and it was wonderful evening, full of stories and laughter. Sam and Jess were back from Europe, with lots of adventures to share. 

“So,” Sam said to Dean during a quiet moment. “Glad I moved out?”

Dean watched Cas at the grill, laughing at something Jody said. He looked over and caught Dean’s eyes, sending him one of those sweet, gorgeous gummy smiles. 

“Fuck, yes,” he answered honestly. 

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “Me, too. Happy looks good on you, dude. Really good.” Sam slung an arm over Dean’s shoulder and pulled him in for a hug. “You’re gonna be fine, Jerk.” 

“Thanks, bitch.”

* * *

 

“Make sure you call me when you get there,” Mary said, hugging Cas. “Because he’ll be so excited he’ll forget.”

“Mom -” Dean protested. 

Cas chuckled and hugged Mary back. “I promise we’ll call. But we’re going to take our time. I promised him a few days in New York.”

“Sounds wonderful.” Mary moved on to hug Dean. 

“You’ve been good for him, you know?” Rufus said quietly. 

“I’m sure trying.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen him this happy in a long, long time. Maybe his entire life.” Rufus handed Cas a box. “Housewarming gift. Don’t drink it all at once.”

“Ooh, Johnny Walker Blue Label. Thanks, Pop!” 

“Don’t call me that, ya moron,” Rufus complained, pulling Dean into a hug. “Be good to yourself, kiddo.”

“I will. Cas’ll kick my ass if I don’t.”

“Good. Someone oughta.”

Another round of hugs and they were in the Impala, backing out of the driveway. 

Dean switched on the radio. The song was upbeat, bouncy - “ _ There’s a freight train racin’ down the track. Don’t know where it's goin’, but it’s not coming back. Hear that whistle blowin gotta catch it…and get on.”  _

“Seems appropriate,” Dean grinned. He put the car in drive and looked over at Cas. “Ready for an adventure?” he asked, grinning. 

“Born ready.” He squeezed Dean’s hand. 

Dean left about two feet of rubber on the street in front of the house. Rufus was shaking his fist as they sped away, but Dean was laughing. 

Dean was laughing, and it was the most beautiful sound Cas had ever heard. 

* * *

 

Blinking awake in the early light of dawn, Cas reached across the sheets for Dean. Dean wasn’t there. He was across the room, sitting cross legged in the window seat, a huge text open on his lap. Cas could see snow falling outside the window of their tiny studio apartment. They easily could’ve afforded a bigger place, but they’d fallen in love with the little room that was within walking distance of campus. 

Dean was beautiful, the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree making him look ethereal. He was wrapped in a thick white blanket, deep in concentration as he read from the text. 

“It’s cold, come back to bed,” Cas whined. 

“I can’t. I got a final today and you know Professor Bradbury’s a fuckin’ hardass.” 

“Ooh, she’d be pissed to hear you say that.”

Dean looked up and smiled. “Yeah, she would.” He tossed the book onto the cushion and yawned. “Fuck it,” Dean said, getting up. He let the blanket fall and miles of sweet freckled skin greeted Cas’s sleepy eyes. Dean yawned again and climbed back into bed. Cas pulled their generous collection of blanket up over Dean's shoulders. “I can do that later. I need to sleep. Didn’t get much last night.”

“No,” Cas grinned, running his finger over the green leather around Dean’s neck. “And you fell asleep in your collar.”

“Hmm, I did. I guess that means you’re still in charge this morning.”

“Good.” Cas kissed Dean as he pulled him close. “Then I want you to go back to sleep,” he said, kissing Dean again. “What’s your safe word?” Cas cocked his eyebrow in question. 

“Impala,” Dean said, snuggling into Cas’s chest. 

“Do you need to use it?”

“No,” Dean yawned. “Love you,” he murmured, already drifting off to sleep. 

“I love you, too,” Cas said, kissing his forehead. “Sleep well, beautiful.” 

There’d be time for studying later, over pancakes and coffee, while they discussed their plans for winter break and Cas poked at his first attempt at a novel. There might even be time for fooling around. Maybe they’d find the time for morning blow jobs or a slow, lazy fuck. 

In a few years, Dean will graduate and Cas will propose. Dean will say yes of course. After graduation, Dean’ll be swimming in job offers. He’ll take the one Federal-Mogul Auto Parts offers, designing parts for auto retailers across the country. The job will move them to Detroit, Michigan, where they’ll buy the cutest little three bedroom fixer-upper. Cas will be working on his second book by then and enjoying the success of the first - a semi-autobiographical tale of a gay sailor who finds the love of his life in his new roommate. 

They’ll take a detour to Kansas on the way to Michigan and get married in front of their family in Rufus and Mary’s backyard. The reception will be at the Roadhouse and their first dance will be to “ _ Biggest Part of Me _ ” by Ambrosia. 

They’ll talk about kids on their honeymoon. 

But for now, this was all either of them needed - warm, naked skin pressed together in the early dawn, breathing the same air, as close as two people could be. 

It’s more than enough - it’s everything. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the songs that inspired and/or featured in this fic can be found [here.](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLkI1sLf-GDYLvkKM1ZE3OcfmPI3mdVt57)
> 
> Holy crap, y'all. 
> 
> So the first two chapters of this fic have been in my "unfinished business" folder since DCBB 2014. This was supposed to be my DCBB that year, but as has happened every year since I joined fandom, I failed to submit a finished DCBB and dropped out. This year, I started writing a DCBB but didn't like the story. I was going through that folder and found this and was like YES THIS but Tropefest. And now here we are. 
> 
> Huge thanks are a thing that must happen. 
> 
> First, my incredible artist, [lennyways!](https://lennyways.tumblr.com/) Your work is beautiful and really captures the scenes they were drawn for. You were an absolute pleasure to work with, and I still feel like I won the artist lottery!
> 
> To the incredible beta crew - Colleen, Alyse, Lara, and Janne, but especially Jini, who knew I was capable of much better work and pushed and prodded. What you're reading is a better fic because of Jini. She really pushed me to do my best and it shows. Love you, Wifey <3
> 
> To the Tropefest mods - you guys are the best. Thanks for letting me play!
> 
> And to you guys - for every kudos and comment over five long years (!!!!), y'all are the best part of writing fics. Thank you so much. <3


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